The Long Way Back
by LouiseKurylo
Summary: AU: Story picks up when Jane returns two years after killing Red John. He and Lisbon resume their relationship where they left off. The world hasn't changed much after all. It remains murky, tense, complicated, and dangerous. Being AU, Abbott and Fischer differ from canon. Minor Jisbon. NB: Mostly T rated. A few sections that might be more M will be ID'd in the chapter.
1. Chapter 1 - To Austin, With Regrets

**The Long Way Back**

**Chapter 1: To Austin, With Regrets**

**Abbott**

Abbott was tired.

Tired and pissed.

The flight back had taken ten hours, starting with the spine-jarring, back-wrenching puddle-jumper plane taking him - them - from the island to Caracas. He was on his way home, a place he had been far too little in the last one year, eleven months, and twelve days – the time lapsed since the raid to take down the corrupt California Bureau of Investigation.

Dennis Abbott relaxed into the blessedly soft cushions of his FBI SUV, glad he'd bothered to drive to the airport in his own vehicle. That allowed him to go directly home instead of horsing around with cabs or, worse, sharing a ride with the agents escorting the con man. Fischer had left earlier and he'd see her in the morning. Then they would meet with Patrick Jane in the Austin FBI building. Abbott didn't like the delay, but it was absolutely essential to be fresh before that meeting.

_Patrick Jane. Last piece in a very complicated puzzle._ He snorted softly to himself. _Started out an FBI raid of the CBI at the request of the California governor. Ended up a hunt for four-thousand corrupt law enforcement personnel across the country._ He had done an exemplary job, reaped heaps of praise from his superiors, gotten flattering interviews from all the major news outlets. The only person he _really_ disappointed ... was himself. He had solved 3,999 pieces of the puzzle. Unfortunately, the one piece yet to be put in place was at the center, at its heart._ Tomorrow_, he comforted himself. _Tomorrow I start to deal with that last piece._

**Jane**

Ten hours and a world away from Margarita Island, Patrick Jane wearily got out of the FBI van and was firmly guided to a nondescript building about a mile from the Austin FBI headquarters. _Hotel FBI_ was what agents mockingly called the detention facility intended for holding suspects or convicts short term during investigations. It was very occasionally used to hold "persons of interest" as long as necessary. Jane jerked his arm from the grip of one of the three agents escorting him. Jane scoffed to himself. _Three, really? I'm not Arnold Schwarzenegger. Typical heavy-handed cops._ The agent looked at him with disapproval, but didn't renew his grasp. They got to a room down a short, featureless hall. Two agents stood outside the door while the third entered with Jane.

Jane turned and spread his hand in silent question.

"Mr. Jane, strip to your waist."

"What?"

"Strip to your waist. I am required to check for tattoos."

The heavy, cold blanket of suspicion, threat, and tension from two years earlier flooded back. The right side of Jane's mouth pulled up in a crooked grin. "Let me guess. A three red dots tattoo."

"No comment."

Jane shed his jacket – itself an odd sensation, as he hadn't worn one for two years – then unbuttoned and shed his island-made patterned shirt. The agent positioned Jane under the ceiling light and drew a cell phone from a pocket. He took three photos of Jane's left shoulder from different angles, all close up. He turned toward the door–

"Wait," he said as Jane moved to don his shirt.

–and got an equipment case from one of the other agents. He withdrew a lamp, set it on the small table and plugged it in.

"Sit here. Do not look directly at the light," he instructed. Then he used a camera to take several more photos. Jane realized different wavelengths could reveal marks invisible to the naked eye, a technique used by dermatologists. When done, he packed up the equipment.

"You will meet with Supervising Agent Abbott at 9 o'clock tomorrow. Meals will be delivered tonight and tomorrow morning. If you have an urgent need, alert the guard outside." He paused a moment. When Jane didn't say anything, he turned and left. The clash of the bolt sliding shut was loud. Final.

Jane slumped, tension draining from his shoulders as he relaxed for the first time that day. He looked around. The room had a bed, an easy chair and a small side table. It was utterly unadorned. _Cell, then_, he thought. It also had a tiny bathroom equipped with towels, soap and shampoo. With a sigh, Jane shed the rest of his clothes. A long hot shower further relaxed and settled him. He finished, then shrugged and donned the same clothes. While he showered, food had been left on the table on a tray. Lifting the covers, he looked over the meal. _Uninspired, but okay._ He ate and knocked on the door to return the tray.

"Thank you." Jane's good manners were ingrained, especially with the ranks, people at the bottom. He'd been one of them much of his life and found a little respect went a long way.

He again shed his clothes. He washed his underwear, left it to dry on the shower rod, and turned in. Accommodations were Spartan, but hardly worse than what he was used to in Venezuela.

Sleep eluded him despite his fatigue. _The FBI didn't send four agents to Venezuela to lure a murder suspect to the US. _He ignored the contract Abbott had presented. Jane took as a given that governments lie. He placed credence only in actions. Fortunately, actions suggested the FBI wanted more than just prosecuting the murderer of a serial killer, especially when all they had was dubious circumstantial evidence. _–They probably _do_ want me to work for them. At least someone does. Not Abbott. He was clear about that. Since Abbott was there nonetheless, Abbott's boss – bosses? – want it. Someone spent a lot of money to find and fetch me._ He chuckled a little at the laughable attempt to use bait. _Kim is attractive enough, but her cop vibe is there for anyone who bothers to look. Didn't exactly win me over by letting Otero's thugs beat me up._ He shifted uncomfortably in the bed, groin still aching from the beating two days ago._ Wonder if Abbott goes along with my terms._ He sighed deeply and set it aside. _Tomorrow._ He refused to think about Lisbon, knowing his demand to see her was a long-shot at best. Lisbon was why he returned. But he wouldn't lie to himself by thinking it would be easy.


	2. Chapter 2 - Top Demand

**Chapter 2: Top Demand**

**Abbott and Fischer**

Well before the start of the normal workday Fischer knocked and entered, not waiting for the "come." Abbott looked up from paperwork on the apprehension of one Patrick Jane.

"Fischer," he nodded. He slid the papers to the side. "Good flight?"

She shook her head in disgust. "No ten-hour flight is 'good.' I bet it was torture with your bad back."

Abbott grimaced. "All we can do now is make it worthwhile. –You got Jane to bite after he turned me down. How?" Abbott leaned back and looked at her speculatively.

Abbott was her mentor; she, his protege. But he was still a man. She hated his not‑so‑subtle speculations. She set that aside and answered in a clipped voice, "Went according to plan. Made contact, struck up a conversation. When we had dinner I was able to suggest some different ways of looking at things. I saw him just before I left and dropped a few additional thoughts."

Abbott raised his eyebrows appreciatively, "Succeeded. We're meeting in–" he looked at his watch, "two hours. Question is, why did he come back and how can we use that?"

Fischer shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "He still wears his wedding ring. He's not over it all yet," she hurried to add, "though I think he's still sharp-"

"-He's sharp all right. Set us up to take down the local drug lord. Apparently for his own amusement."

Fischer shook her head, a little confused at that, and plunged on with her thought, "-But he took it off before dinner."

Abbott perked up. "So he can be ... swayed?"

She looked at him icily, lips pressed thin. "Not sure. He remembered how much he liked the work. Misses the familiarity, speaking English, being 'understood.' He – he's more complex than I expected. He didn't even mention money or position. Of course he didn't talk about prison." She consciously reined herself in and set aside her annoyance. Her boss's insinuations stemmed from his low regard for Jane. Not anything about her.

"He was free there so he came back for something else. Now that he's here, his freedom_ is_ a bargaining chip. Which I will cheerfully exploit." Abbott pulled a sheaf of photocopies from a drawer. "Look at this."

"'My Terms'?" she read. "Jane's?" After swiftly skimming them she looked up in surprise and disappointment. "You agreed to these?"

"_He_ thinks I agreed. I look forward to correcting that error."

"His first demand is working with Teresa Lisbon. Next, dropping charges and the parole provision. –The rest are either automatic or garbage demands to yank your chain."

"Uh-huh. Well, people can't always have what they want, can they? He's a con man and a murderer. Who knows what else. He works for the FBI or spends decades in prison. Not exactly bargaining from strength."

She sat forward. Intensely, "Dennis, I want this. You said if he came back he'd be on my team–"

"–Which may be a mistake. Kim, you think you can bottle that closed case lightening for your career. I'm not so sure. What if he self-destructs and takes you with him?"

She purred, "But if I'm right, he'll make us both look good. I will do whatever it takes to make that happen."

Abbott smiled thinly, "Kim, don't let ambition trump your judgment. You got him here and he'll be on your team as promised. _My_ reason for keeping him is to find out just who Patrick Jane is. After two years of cleaning up Blake I still don't know how he fit in. Meet me outside Conference 3 at five to."

**Cho**

"Lisbon." Cho's voice wasn't loud, but it carried as she stepped out of the hotel promptly at 8:30 a.m.

"Cho! I, uh, –was I supposed to expect you?"

"No. Give you a lift to the FBI." She simply followed as he walked to his SUV. _Either Lisbon's mellowing, Or she's distracted because of Jane._ In a few minutes they were driving toward the FBI building

"The FBI provides taxi service, now?"

"Official business." Unexpectedly Cho pulled off into a small park.

She frowned. "Cho?"

"Nice day." Cho very obviously put his cell phone in the glove compartment. She looked hard at him, then did the same. His small nod told her she assumed correctly. After a ten minute walk away from the SUV they found a park bench and sat down. There were few people around despite the delightfully cool morning temperatures.

After a moment Lisbon opened. "Why the hell did I learn about Jane being in the States from Abbott? He called at 4 yesterday and all but _summoned_ to a meeting this morning. You couldn't give me a heads up?!"

Looking out at the scenery, "No. I didn't know any sooner."

Surprised, "You – you didn't? And what's with the cloak-and-dagger?"

He took a breath and released it slowly. "Abbott doesn't trust me. I need to ensure our privacy."

"Why? What's going on?"

"Abbott recommended against my FBI application. After I finished training there weren't many SA's willing to give me a shot. Blake fallout. Abbott offered me a job. I took it."

"Why'd he do that?"

"'Either you'll be a hell of an agent. Or you'll be exposed as part of Blake. Either way, I win.' Direct quote."

"Geez, Cho. I had no idea."

Cho shook his head, annoyed they'd gotten sidetracked to his business. "I found out about Jane yesterday when they were bringing him back."

"He's okay?" She stopped breathing till Cho nodded.

"He came willingly. FBI wants him to work for them. Not Abbott, his bosses. Rumor has it you're first on Jane's list of demands."

"What does that even mean?"

Patiently, "FBI hires you to work with Jane. Or Jane won't work with them."

Head spinning, Lisbon tried to take in the implications. _Here one night and he's blowing through my life like a tornado._ Cho got up.

"We'll be late."

"Cho, what if I don't?"

"If Jane won't work for the FBI he'll face murder charges. Sorry I couldn't warn you sooner."

She wrenched her attention back to her surroundings as they approached the SUV. "Thanks, Cho. I owe you."

Silence reigned for the rest of the ride.


	3. Chapter 3 - Negotiations

**Chapter 3: Negotiations**

Quotations from "My Blue Heaven" episode are marked with an asterisk (*).

**Lisbon**

Cho escorted Lisbon to a conference room and left without comment. She sat down at the table in the empty room. She tried to think despite the confusing maelstrom of delight and anger. Any issues with Jane could wait. It was critical not to interfere with whatever plan he had in motion. _For sure, Abbott isn't on my side – or Jane's. And – oh, God, Jane's back and now what?_ Once again she was in the familiar, loathed position of following Jane's lead while stumbling around in the dark.

**Jane**

The same three agents who escorted – guarded – Jane yesterday were back to take him to the meeting. One glance told him two were there out of curiosity, stretching the assignment in hopes of garnering juicy details. Dusty memories surfaced and informed him they were among the newbies Abbott brought for the CBI take down a continent and an eternity ago.

Jane got out of the SUV and paused to look at the looming FBI building. Hard surfaces. Impersonal. Impassive. A physical embodiment of government authority and power. It was a stark contrast to the weathered, historic CBI building that was _part_ of the surrounding city. His lips quirked. _Or maybe I'm just nervous and nostalgic._

Jane's first surprise met him inside the entrance.

"Jane."* Cho rose from his chair, taking in the man before him. _Healthy. Happy - no, happier. Tense, but hiding it well. Beach bum chic combined with upper-crust conservative._

"Cho. Ha! You never cease to amaze me,"* Jane said, voice high and breaking slightly.

"I got him from here, guys."* The three agents left with an air of regret. They weren't going to see anything more of the famous – or infamous – figure from the Blake case they had worked their entire careers. All twenty-four months of them.

"So you joined the FBI, huh?"* he asked while wondering why Cho was more controlled and reserved than usual, which was saying something.

"Yeah. Finished training at Quantico five months ago."*

"Wow. Look at you. Congratulations."* Jane's move to embrace awkwardly transformed into a pat on the arm. _Not comfortable with a hug. Not comfortable period. It's not me. What then?_ Jane's relief at encountering a friend as he bearded the lion's den distilled into fascination with the unknown Cho story.

"Thanks."*

"Yeah."*

"It's this way."*

"Okay."* Jane set aside further cold reading. He didn't know the lay of the land and wasn't about to unknowingly undermine Cho's situation.

They started to climb the impressive, graceless staircase. "Where are your socks?"*

The question was unsettling in its utter insignificance. _Two years. Murder charges. Voluntary return. And _socks _are your question? "_Uh, I don't know."* Jane couldn't resist any longer. "Did they put a chip in your neck?"*

"Not that I know of. Why do you ask?"*

"Ah, you just don't seem too happy to see me."*

"I am happy to see you."* Jane read that as true. "I just wish it was under different circumstances."* _Emphatically true._

"Why is that?"*

"I don't think you and the FBI are gonna get along very well. I don't think they really understand how you operate."*

_And there it is. Cho has doubts about this whole bureau, not just my place in it. He feels like he's in enemy territory. Interesting._ "Ah. They'll loosen up once they get to know me."*

"Mm‑hmm. Second door on the left."* As Cho walked away he couldn't suppress a tiny grin. Despite uncertainty about his situation and Jane's, he anticipated Jane's brand of brilliance could only brighten the cheerless, murky bureau politics. Abbott was about to learn chaos was Jane's constant companion.

**Lisbon and Jane**

Jane opened the door. A grin split his face. The reason for his return sat before him, reality far surpassing his fevered island dreams. "Hey."*

Lisbon turned and rose, pleasure bubbling up. "Hello."* She chuckled, "Nice beard,"* even as she looked dubious.

"Thank you,"* he said. They moved toward each other, uncertain for a moment how to reconnect.

Bottom lip caught in her teeth, "Thank you for the letters,"* she tenderly responded, eyes shining.

Then joy drew them into a tight embrace, nothing held back. "Oh, I missed you,"* he said softly, fervently, deeply breathing in the scent of her hair.

"I missed you, too,"* she said, equally overwhelmed.

They reluctantly broke apart. Drawing back a bit, "What's going on, huh? Why am I here?"*

He smiled as they both moved to sit, "You'll see. It's gonna be great."*

"What?"*

"Trust me."* Her eyes involuntarily closed. After a decade with Jane, her instant reaction was dread.

**Lisbon, Jane and Abbott**

Lisbon sat silently as Jane and Abbott warily circled, probing and feinting to test for weakness. Abbot laid out the pending charges: Homicide, obstruction of justice, aggravated assault, grand theft auto. It was a partial list. Her breath caught when he said, "You're looking at 20-to-life."* Then Abbott detailed his terms. All Jane would have to do was knuckle under for five years of servitude. She swallowed painfully. _Jane couldn't knuckle under for five years if his life depended on it. _Her alarm was checked only by a confidence born of years' experience. _Never met anyone smarter. Always gets what he wants. He has to._

She took a deep breath and turned back to the negotiation. _Jane thinks Abbott agreed to the terms on that napkin. Free man. And I work with him?! –Damn his high-handedness! _

"I have a job, okay? I'm not gonna drop everything just because you suddenly decided to come back,"* she interjected heatedly.

"W‑we'll talk,"* Jane said hurriedly, returning full attention to Abbott. Jane resumed listing his demands until Abbott calmly interrupted.

"-I don't think you're hearing me, Jane. You are on US soil now. I am the federal government, and I am telling you that _that_ is a napkin. This is the deal. Take it or leave it."*

Lisbon waited, not breathing.

"I'll leave it."* Decisive. No room for discussion.

The door behind Abbott opened and Lisbon was startled out of her dismay.

"Kim?"* Jane asked, seemingly surprised. Lisbon swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. _Jane knows her!_

"Agent Fischer,"* she corrected formally.

"Agent Fischer,"* Jane repeated mechanically, looking stunned.

Abbott sighed. "Mr. Jane will be going to a detention suite."*

"I'm sorry to hear that,"* Fischer said indifferently. "I'll make the arrangements."*

And the meeting was over in an instant. Jane blustered, all bravado. The only answer she got to her query, "Who is she, and what is a detention suite?"* was a typical, infuriating non‑answer.

"Don't worry, Lisbon. It's all under control,"* he said with a wink. Fischer stepped outside. A guard appeared, cuffed Jane and led him away.

Lisbon sat staring at Abbott. "What happens next?"

"That's up to Jane," Abbott replied smugly.

"Can I talk to him?"

"No." Abbott gathered his papers and left.

Lisbon sat staring at the empty table. _Two years. Back in the States. A five minute meeting and he's locked up. What – What the–_

"Lisbon."

She looked up. "Cho?"

"He turned them down." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah." Lisbon ground out, fighting for composure.

"What do you want to do?"

She picked up her bag and rose, suddenly exhausted even though it was only 10 a.m. "Fly back to Washington, I guess."

Cho took her carry-on bag and led her to the SUV. Of course he didn't have a case since Fischer had just gotten back from Venezuela. His boss gave him the personal time he asked without question. Fischer made it plain she was more than happy to have him get Lisbon out of Austin, out of the way of her plans.


	4. Chapter 4 - What Next?

**Chapter 4: What Next?**

**Lisbon and Cho**

Silence suited them both as they rode to the airport. It was hours till the next non-stop flight to Olympia, the airport serving Cannon Falls, and Cho suggested they have lunch. Even after two years, Lisbon badly missed her old team. Cho had been with her longest and his company at this moment was a gift. He again put his cell phone in the glove compartment, so she did too.

They ordered. The server delivered their beverages and took the menus. Cho leaned back in the booth, regarding her expressionlessly.

"Want to talk?"

Lisbon squelched the impulse to refuse. If ever she needed a sounding board, it was now. "I – I don't know what to think. Much less what to do."

"Brief me?"

She nodded, took a sip of coffee, and began. "Abbott called at 4 yesterday. Said it involved Jane and asked me to fly here to meet."

"No details?"

"No. Then today, you left and Jane came in a few minutes later." Cho nodded, having delivered Jane. "We barely had time to say 'hi.'" She gritted her teeth. "I asked what was going on. So _of course_ he says, 'Trust me.'"

"And?"

"Abbott came in. Listed a shit-load of charges facing Jane, including murder. Twenty‑to‑life." She looked up grimly. "The FBI will drop the charges if Jane works for Abbott for five years under parole status. No tricks, no escaping, no screwing around or Abbott throws him in prison."

Evenly, "Makes sense for Abbott. Never work for Jane. So?"

"Jane pulled out a napkin with handwriting on it. Claimed Abbott already agreed to his terms."

"Which are?"

"Jane's a free man, no parole status. And I have to work with him. –Dammit, Cho, does everyone think I'm a pawn? First Abbott summons me. Then Jane assumes I'll drop everything to work with him in Austin. Damned obnoxious, presumptuous men!"

Calmly, "Any other terms?"

"Yeah, but they didn't seem to be a big deal. –Oh. And Abbott told Jane he already had a team set. My services aren't needed." She huffed in irritation.

"So Abbott wants Jane completely under his control. No interference."

Lisbon took another sip of coffee. "He's more than welcome to _that_ pleasure," she grumbled sourly.

"How can I help?"

"Help me think through what's going on."

"Okay. Start with Jane. What's he after?"

She said slowly, "To get back to the US without the law on his tail."

"Why?"

"Misses the US. And, maybe wants to work with the FBI?"

"That make sense?"

She looked puzzled. "He _must_ want to. He'd never take a risk for something he didn't want."

"Since when does Jane love law enforcement?"

She said slowly, "Doesn't _need_ the law enforcement connection now that Red John's dead. He always liked solving crimes, though."

"That enough?"

She shook her head slowly. "No. He wanted his freedom and maybe this was the easiest way."

Cho just looked at her.

She sighed, recognizing the holes in her reasoning. "Okay, doesn't hold water. The FBI is a bigger bureaucracy than the CBI. _He'd_ see the FBI as irritating. He could come up with a dozen other schemes."

Cho prodded, "What did Jane ask for?"

Eyes widening, "His freedom and ... working with me." She swallowed painfully. "He wants to get _me_ into the FBI?" she said wonderingly.

Cho nodded. "What I think."

She gulped a mouthful of coffee to mask a surge of emotion. "He's risking a life term to get me a job?!" she speculated, appalled but flattered, too.

"Jane wouldn't see it that way. He'd figure he could game the situation."

She sat back. "Sounds right. What about the others? What's in it for Abbott?"

Cho looked even more serious. "Rumor has it he's being pressured by the brass."

"Why would FBI brass care about Jane?"

"Lisbon, the SCU took down Red John. Exposed Blake. And had a hundred percent close rate for a decade. I got a lot of questions about us at Quantico."

"Assume that's true. What's it mean for Jane?"

"It's good. Abbott has to make it work. –Unless he figures Jane might be Blake."

Suddenly remembering the meeting, "What about Fischer?"

Cho frowned. "My boss? She was there?"

"Yeah. Jane seemed to know her."

"She went with to fetch Jane. Thought it was just an undercover bit. But if she was at the negotiations-"

"–then she has a stake in Jane, too."

Cho took a deep breath. "Fischer just got promoted. Sounds like she wants him for her team."

Lisbon's expression hardened. "What's she like?"

"Competent. Hard-working. Ambitious –_ really_ ambitious. Father was CIA. Feels she has something to prove."

Lisbon took a deep breath. "So Abbott's forced to take on Jane, make it work to look good to his bosses. Fischer wants Jane for her career and has an even bigger stake in making it work. –Maybe there is no problem." Her stomach churned at the thought of Jane stuck in Austin for five years, living life as a parolee. _And what is Fischer to him?_

Cho gazed at her levelly. "Jane turned them down. _He_ thinks it's a problem. He isn't capable of toeing the line, not long term."

"Is he even charged?"

"Don't think so."

"How can they hold him more than a few days?"

"Not sure, but they'll do it. Abbott's as hard-nosed as they come."

Suddenly recalling something else, "What's a detention suite?"

"Solitary confinement."

She huffed, unhappy. "Cripes, Cho. What the hell has Jane gotten himself into?"

"Think he has a plan?"

_"He_ thinks so."

"Then why not let it play out for awhile?"

She closed her eyes, dismayed. "Don't have much choice, do I?"

"Lisbon, Jane is one of the most capable people I've met. Let's see what he does."

"You'll keep an eye out for him?"

Cho exhaled slowly, lips pressed together. "As much as I can. I don't have a lot of running room." Lisbon threw down a few bills and got up to leave. Cho stopped her.

"Boss – take this."

She eyed the burner cell phone Cho handed her. _Crap. He really worries he might be under surveillance. Why the hell would the FBI screw with its agents like that? _"I hate that you feel we need this, Kimball. But, thanks."

"My burner number's programmed in. Call after midnight if we need to talk."

They reached the airport shortly. Lisbon impulsively gave Cho a hug, surprising them both.

"No matter what, don't be a stranger, huh?" He nodded and was gone. Lisbon waited for her flight, thoughts and emotions in chaos.

**Lisbon, Cannon Falls, Washington**

Lisbon pulled into her driveway and parked after the two-hour drive from the airport. The day was cool with drizzle, wrapping the land in soggy gray cotton as twilight yielded to night. The four hour flight had been a trial. She did everything possible to _stop thinking, stop feeling_. The last thing she needed was an emotional breakdown in public. Talking with Cho had tempered her alarm and disappointment, and she held fast to that.

Lisbon closed the door, dropped her carry-on, and tossed her keys on the kitchen counter. _Home sweet home._ She pulled cheese and an apple out of the fridge and cut them up for a snack. She added a soda and set the tray down in the study. With a frown she returned to the kitchen. _Didn't check for messages all day._ She stiffened at the message from her station officer Henry, then tossed the phone aside with a derisive snort after reading the simple "Good nite, Hope Ur back 2morrow, Chief."

She lit the fireplace to drive out the dampness and settled on the couch. It was a favorite place. Many a night had been spent warmed by the fire, a glass of wine, and a letter from Jane. Her breath caught. _Jane! He's really back. Not just a dream or hope, he's back in the US for good._ Goosebumps washed over her with a shiver at the memory of his hug. He'd smelled vaguely of ocean and sun, faintly of sweat, and overwhelmingly of Jane. It felt like her past, present and future all rolled into one. She closed her eyes, hugging herself, hands wiping away the goosebumps covering her arms. Her skin tingled at the memory of his embrace – a memory _hours,_ not _years,_ old. Now, in the privacy of her house, she let herself bask in the pleasure of knowing the man who had been at her side for a decade had come back and come back at least partly for _her_. She dashed away tears that gathered at the corners of her eyes. She had lived an eternity under the threat of Red John, the all too likely possibility that Jane would die at his hand or spend life in prison. Jane was here, he was vibrantly alive, and he could wipe the legal slate clean for the asking. His current problems were minor by comparison.

Lisbon drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, able to think now instead of just feel, to get past the jumble of happiness, disappointment, frustration, optimism, concern, curiosity, eagerness and anxiety. _Jane will do what he needs to come out on top. Maybe it'll be hard, but it's not impossible. Killing Red John. Exposing Blake. Keeping everyone alive. _That_ was impossible. And we did it anyhow._ She leaned forward and started to nibble on the food. The fire cast a warm yellow glow in keeping with her mood. Then she wrinkled her nose and forced herself to be honest. _Nope, 'warm glow' isn't Patrick Jane._ She acknowledged the thrill of excitement, the feeling that her life could get moving again after two years of suspended animation. The warm glow was a bubble in which she had survived on hope and letters. Today was the electric crackle of possibility, of change. Patrick Jane's arrival upended her life and she'd never felt more alive.

Her gaze slowly scanned this most favorite room. The team photo on the mantle that reminded her how much she'd lost. The box with letters that left her aching for more. The beauty of a room, a house she had made into home, that so bitterly contrasted with the rest of her life. She blinked. A house wasn't enough to sustain her for the next twenty years and there sure as hell wasn't enough else in Cannon Falls to live for. Stopping DUI's, catching bike thieves, managing traffic?_ I was a homicide detective for chrissakes!_ She had led a team hand-picked from the best of thousands in California law enforcement. In Cannon Falls she headed a department comprised of a few dozen willing to keep the peace in a sleepy backwater. _And dating? That's the biggest joke of all!_ Her tentative efforts merely confirmed how pathetic the available men were compared to Patrick Jane. _They're nice, decent, stolid men like the one I ran from twenty years ago._ Not one came close to the brilliant, mercurial, complex, superbly capable man she hungered for.

She stared at the team photo, at one man in that photo. _Dammit. I've wanted Jane every moment of every day since he killed Red John. He fulfilled his vow. He didn't die. He isn't a million miles away in some godforsaken country. I will do whatever it takes to see where we go from here, to have him if he'll have me._

She cleared the dishes and empty soda can, made sure the fire was out and glass fireplace door safely closed, and turned in.

Lying in bed, every nerve arced with electric desire as she remembered Jane's smile, his voice and scent, how his body felt against hers. For the first time in two years she wasn't just torturing herself with what might have been. She welcomed a foretaste of what could be.


	5. Chapter 5 - Detention - The Start

**Chapter 5: Detention - The Start**

**Abbott and Fischer**

"The _geniuses_ in Washington ordered me to repatriate Jane so he could work cases._ I_ think it's a mistake. _You_ think he's worth the trouble. Convince me," Abbott challenged. He leaned back in his chair with a small, sardonic smile.

Fischer flipped open a notebook. "The SCU closed every case assigned for ten years, including Red John and serial murderers such as businessman Tommy Volker. I examined the CBI files we seized–"

Abbott chuckled, "-So _that's_ where you spent that week off."

"-I analyzed the SCU data before Jane was hired, and after. Even though Lisbon's team was green–"

Abbott's eyes gleamed in amusement. This would be Fischer's first time as team leader. She didn't notice.

"–the new SCU was successful before Jane. Good close rate. High conviction stats for cases that went to trial. The ones that plea bargained accepted significant prison sentences. After Jane came aboard, they closed _every_ case." She was a little breathless. "Convictions and plea deals improved. In fact, the CBI Director before Bertram–" she leafed through some pages to find the name, "-Minelli had to create a perk for _second_ best team of the month. The SCU earned top team right after Jane started and kept it for ten years straight."

"And how well did Jane work with the CBI?"

Fischer's enthusiasm dimmed. She licked her lips, "Um, he was challenging. Numerous complaints, a few lawsuits. Never so bad that he was fired."

"As I recall, _Lisbon_ got suspended more than once and _was_ on the chopping block."

She blinked, surprised Abbott knew the details. "And then was reinstated by Bertram," she countered.

"_After_ Jane destroyed his new team and humiliated its manager, correct?" Abbott's hard gaze pinned Fischer in place.

She finally said, "Yes."

"And you think you can manage him." Without waiting for a reply, "He's a con man and murderer. And I still wonder why Bertram gave in. I'm not convinced Jane isn't involved with Blake."

Blanching, "Why would Jane be part of Blake?"

Abbott shrugged. "The usual. Money and power."

"But Blake was run by McAllister – Red John – who murdered his wife and child."

Voice hard, "We still don't know how Patrick Jane fits. For all I know, Jane attempted a palace coup and McAllister retaliated by killing his family."

Shaken, "Is – is there any evidence?"

Abbott relented a shade. "No. But until I'm sure, I want Jane where I can keep an eye on him."

Fischer tilted her head, "And Lisbon?"

Abbott frowned, "We've had her under surveillance since McAllister's murder. No sign she's been contacted by Blake. No one's fingered her as a member and she doesn't have the tattoo."

Fischer looked up, "Neither does Jane."

"All we know is that everyone with that tattoo _is_ Blake. Whether some Blake members _don't_ have the tattoo is unknown. And Jane wrote to Lisbon for two years while he was a fugitive." With a barbed smile, "Maybe you should find out how she kept him in line."

"If I may ask–" he nodded, "-why did you have her at the meeting with Jane? It was a long way for a five minute meeting, especially knowing you would reject Jane's terms."

Brusquely, "I don't care about her convenience. I wanted to see them interact, see if anything suggested they were in Blake." His eyes flicked to his computer monitor. She realized the conference room was bugged when they met. "It also neutralized Jane's threat to refuse to work for me if she wasn't here."

"You're not considering hiring her?"

Abbott snorted. "Not if I don't have to." Abbott moved to wrap up the meeting. "I'm out of town on Blake for the next three weeks. Jane's your baby. After detention takes him down a peg or two see if he'll go for the deal."

"Yes, sir."

Amused, "Good luck."

**Fischer**

Kim Fischer efficiently got to work deciding the details of Jane's detention. Jane had to find out – quickly – that they held all the cards. _The sooner he realizes our deal is his best option, the better. Then he can start redeeming himself by solving crimes. Case work will be nirvana _after a week or two of boredom.

**Cho**

Cho kept his eyes open but saw nothing that needed to be done, nor anything that _could_ be done. He took advantage of an excuse to stop by Hotel FBI and verified that Jane was incommunicado. He knew the men assigned to guard duty and made a point of being cordial. In the hidebound FBI world, mere guards were beneath the notice of most FBI agents. He was sure he'd be remembered favorably.

**Lisbon**

The next day Lisbon returned to the reality of law-enforcement in Cannon Falls. Henry was his typical overly enthusiastic self when she returned after a whole day away. The work was necessary. Her initiatives had actually lowered teen driving fatalities, holiday DUI's, and car accidents involving pedestrians. The PD's professionalism and conviction rates were up. But it, all of it, was hopelessly boring compared to her time with the CBI, seemingly a lifetime ago.

Lisbon repeatedly pinched herself. Jane's return wasn't a daydream. She just needed to keep her frustration at bay until Jane's scheme, whatever it was, had time to pan out. Meanwhile, she wrote him the first of daily letters to keep herself from dozing during the afternoon lull.

**Jane**

Patrick Jane settled into his "suite." The eight-by-eleven foot room was no less comfortable than his island apartment. The bathroom was cleaner and the hot water unlimited. That was the start and end of the advantages.

He quickly realized that detention was to be an experience in unrelieved boredom. The food would sustain life, but was hardly anything to savor. He would wear the same clothes, except for weekly laundering. He would get the regulation one hour of outside exercise daily in a fenced ten foot square cage. The guards never responded to his polite "please" or "thank you," but Jane read their regret at being ordered not to interact beyond the most basic communication. Jane asked a guard if he could get books and receive mail. Lisbon had been glad to see him and he was certain she would write. He thought it likely Cho would stop by if he could. When books, letters and visitors failed to appear, he had his answer.

_So it will be a waiting game._

Jane figured he was better suited to waiting than ambitious, up-tight, goal-driven agents. He had the time. He also had a lifetime of running cons where impatience was the biggest reason for failure. Abbott, on the other hand, had bosses who believed Jane could be useful. Those bosses had devoted considerable resources to fetching him and taking a chance on a suspected murderer. Fischer had ambitions that were being frustrated daily. His biggest advantage was that _they_ had come to _him._ The more time passed, the greater their anxiety about looking foolish, about making their gamble pay off, about solving cases that might go unsolved. And he had another ace in the hole if that failed.

Meanwhile, Jane had the Bible, the complete works of Shakespeare, and dozens of fiction and non-fiction books he could retrieve from his memory palace. He also spent time thinking about the Blake Association, Red John disciples, and even Visualize. While in Venezuela, Jane had occasionally read articles about the Blake clean-up in English-language publications left by hotel guests. Contrary to awestruck, credulous reporting on the FBI's amazing success, Jane seriously doubted that _all _Blake members had been identified and neutralized. If he - and Lisbon - were working for Abbott, the Blake case would at minimum hover on the periphery of their world. He might as well be prepared.

Kim Fischer visited at the end of the first week. She asked him to submit to the FBI's terms. He smiled and shook his head without bothering to get up. She left in a huff when he then rolled over and turned his back on her.


	6. Chapter 6 - Detention - Taking Shape

**Chapter 6: Detention - Taking Shape**

**Abbott**

Abbott's hands were full, his mood, foul. Chicago law enforcement was rife with problems on its best day. The infiltration of the Blake Association into the ranks and possibly higher was a nightmare to distinguish from ambient high levels of ordinary corruption. Despite a number of arrests, progress was slow. It looked like this three week operation would easily stretch to four or more. Chicago proved the adage that a city's LE could never be better than its political leadership.

Fortunately, most of the Austin FBI could run on autopilot under the team leaders. Fischer's assignment was not business as usual, but fortunately that problem could wait. Abbott advised her to do her best in the few minutes he could spare. Meanwhile, his work on Blake was more than enough to deflect the Washington brass who were eager to move their pet project along.

Long away cases always took a toll. Most of the newbies he had initiated with the CBI take down were still single, for which he was grateful. He, on the other hand, was paying a domestic price. He had already missed his wedding anniversary. After many years as an FBI wife, Leah would accept the disappointment with grace. But he was damned if he would miss his daughter's graduation. Regardless of cost or sleep, he _would_ fly in just for that day if that's what it took.

**Lisbon**

Ten days after Jane's return, Lisbon's elation was slowly curdling into frustration, worry and, if she was honest, anger. She had written several times since the meeting in Austin. Since none of her letters came back, she assumed Jane must be receiving them. Still, her worry grew as the days ticked past. She received no replies from Jane. Her call to the Austin FBI office got her precisely nowhere. The receptionist forwarded her call to Kim Fischer, who blandly stated that she could "neither confirm nor deny any information pertaining to Patrick Jane as he is a subject in an active FBI investigation." Calls to the relevant courts confirmed that Jane had been neither charged nor arraigned. That night she called Cho for the first time but learned very little. Cho confirmed that Jane remained in detention and that he was cut off from external contact. She spent the next two days stewing.

Lisbon's frustration boiled over. She slammed her fist down on her desk in the Cannon Falls PD. _Since when do I sit around wringing my hands waiting for something to happen? If I don't do something I'll go stark raving mad._

"Chief?" Henry's anxious face appeared after a quick knock. "Anything wrong?"

Lisbon mustered a calm visage. "Everything's fine. Something fell on my desk. –Oh, hold my calls for fifteen minutes, please."

"Yes, ma'am."

Lisbon placed her call and was put through by the receptionist. "Hey, Gabe... It's been a while. ... Say, I'm going to be in Sacramento tomorrow. Any chance we can get together for lunch? ... That'd be great." She placed her second call and then informed Henry she would be taking a vacation day tomorrow.

**Lisbon and Mancini**

Her flight to Sacramento was uneventful. The weather was warm and sunny. _Of course it's warm and sunny, _Lisbon thought as she waited for her rental car. The weather only made an impression because of the contrast with cool, wet Washington. She drove to the Sacramento FBI building and parked in a nearby public garage. She signed in as a visitor and was cleared to go up to Mancini's office. His assistant knocked and ushered her in.

"Teresa! What a sight for sore eyes." Mancini rose and walked around his desk. He shook her hand and unexpectedly pulled her into a brief embrace.

Turning around in a circle. "Nice digs!" she said admiringly. "Doesn't look anything like it did when your – predecessor had it."

He laughed. "You can say her name." More seriously, "I changed everything. Don't want any memories. Shultz is in Federal prison along with a whole lot of Blake members. –Hey, let's head out, my treat."

"Gabe, you don't–"

"Yes, I do." A fondness showed in his eyes. "You travel, I host. And – I want to."

They settled into a booth in a nearby restaurant. Though not far from the old CBI, it was far enough so she didn't have to pass too many familiar, painful haunts. Blessedly, the restaurant was new since the CBI's demise. _No memories at all. _They ordered and handed their menus to the server.

"So, Teresa. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She smiled, "Maybe I'm just passing through and wanted lunch with my favorite FBI agent."

His smile turned wistful, "Could be. But it's not you. You always have a purpose."

She looked down and shrugged. "Well, I do have a question, off the record. But why don't we catch up first. Pleasure before business."

"Now _that's_ a new attitude!" His eyes flicked to her left hand.

"How are you, Gabe? I assume you ... weathered it okay?"

He sighed. "The whole situation stunk. Finding out the people around me were dirty made me sick. Abbott uncovered a bunch, here and in other California offices."

"But you're director, now. You came out all right?"

"Yeah." He looked a little guilty. "Listen, Teresa, I always thought you got a raw deal. I mean, your team uncovered Blake and for Abbott–"

Softly, "-Gabe, it's okay. No one on my team died and life goes on. Couldn't expect the CBI to survive with so much corruption. I – I don't know why I didn't see it–"

It was his turn to interrupt. "–Your SCU was always a cut above and apart." His laugh was bitter. "If anyone understands it's me. Remember? Dirty boss _and_ partner?"

She touched his arm. "What's important is the rot's cleaned up." Their food was served. As they started to eat, "I hear you finally tied the knot. She's one lucky woman."

He smiled, set his fork down and fished out his cell. "Yep. Finally found the one." His cell phone displayed a pretty 30-something woman holding an infant.

"Yours?!"

"Yeah. Dominick Gabriel Mancini. Two months old and the light of my life."

They talked, sharing LE news and gossip about joint acquaintances. Mancini passed on what he knew about the new California investigative agency, which Madeline Hightower had just been hired to head after a couple of false starts. They finally got to dessert.

Mancini pushed his plate back with a sigh. "Okay, Teresa, the suspense is killing me. What's up?"

She took a deep breath. "_Theoretically,_ how does the FBI hold someone indefinitely without getting the case dismissed for violating due process?"

He stiffened. "We're not talking terrorist or any kind of Homeland Security issue, right?"

"Right."

Mancini grimaced. "I don't_ officially_ know this, but I've heard rumors. The Bureau can skirt the edge of legality through a polite fiction. Assuming the 'person of interest' doesn't want to be charged, the FBI agrees not to charge so long as the suspect 'voluntarily' stays somewhere like a hotel room."

"_Theoretically_, how do I get around that, especially if there's no communication with the outside world?"

He looked at her hard. "Not sure. You'd probably have to catch the Bureau violating some other right." He shrugged. "Denial of basic rights. Torture. Cruel and unusual punishment. Judges give the Bureau some leeway, but there are limits. Judges see through any 'voluntary' agreement and kick cases if we go too far."

She nodded, "Appreciate the insight."

"Who, Teresa?" She didn't answer. "It's Jane, isn't it?" After a moment, "Never liked him and killing McAllister was flat out murder. But I'm not sorry McAllister's dead." Softly, "Good luck, Teresa."

Just as softly, "Thanks, Gabe."

Lisbon drove to San Francisco and spent the night with Wayne Rigsby and Grace Van Pelt (who only used "Rigsby" socially). Even though Cho had spoken with Rigsby, he hadn't even hinted that Jane had returned, confirming Lisbon's take on how suspicious Cho was of the Austin bureau. They were surprised, pleased, hopeful, concerned and a bunch of other adjectives at the news. They offered her any help she might need, though it looked unlikely their PI world would intersect with government investigative organizations again. Rigsby was, perhaps, as surprised and concerned at Cho's suspicions about his new employer. This was supposed to be Cho's big break, but the long shadow of Blake was trailing them all like a curse.

**Fischer**

Kim Fischer was frustrated and getting more so. Patrick Jane had been detained for two weeks with no signs of relenting. She couldn't understand how he could be so _stupid? foolish? – no, stubborn_ as to believe he'd prevail over the government. Her visits had become more frequent. Every time she came up with a new perspective, a new persuasive argument, she would try it out. Other than shaking his head with a smile, Jane didn't even deign to engage her in argument.

Jane's life remained deadly boring. Fischer closely questioned the guards to verify that her orders were being followed to the letter. Jane had no outside contact. Mediocre would be a generous description of his food. His clothes were laundered once a week on Friday and returned Saturday morning. He received no replacement clothes since the humiliation and vulnerability furthered her efforts. (He used a sheet until his clothes were returned each time.) He received no books, movies, TV, magazines, newspapers or anything else to relieve the boredom. His one hour of daily exercise meant an hour in an outdoor cage without any exercise equipment. He had, she learned, started strength training and cardio exercises using only his body. She wanted to drive home how she controlled every aspect of his existence, an existence which would remain monotonous and dull until he agreed to work for the FBI.

Fischer had made no progress that she could see. She finally swallowed her pride and called Abbott for guidance. He didn't have time to talk and her frustration ticked up another notch. She could see a golden future for the taking, if only she could get the infuriating _bastard_ to agree to their generous deal. _Who refuses an offer to drop murder charges?!_

At wits' end, Fischer finally did what she always did. She reached out to her father. Now retired from the CIA, he was an excellent resource for figuring out how to compel compliance, obedience. She didn't aim to break Patrick Jane, but she really _needed_ him to comply. She knew Jane's life would be better If he could be moved by logic, by the opportunity to start a new life working for the FBI. His resistance was inexplicable.

On Monday, she got the news that Abbott's operation would be extended. On Tuesday, she saw an opportunity to finally bend Jane to her will. She stopped by the detention center on Tuesday just before dinner was served to the current three detainees. She left feeling a little relief, a little less pressure now that she was finally taking action.

**Jane**

Jane continued to bide his time, waiting till frustration and pressure from above would compel the agents to meet his terms. Fischer regularly appeared, but he refused to deal with her. She didn't have the authority to give him what he wanted. And by now he disliked her personally. She hadn't lifted a finger when Ortero's thugs beat him. She appeared totally comfortable with his indefinite solitary confinement which she appeared to be managing. Regardless of physical attractiveness, Jane's brief meeting with Lisbon reminded him anew of the compassion so glaringly missing in Fischer. Abbott's absence surprised him, but Jane eventually realized Abbott had to be absorbed with a case. Fischer showed no sign of being guided by Abbott's wiliness and subtlety.

Jane was busy negotiating his environment. Despite a natural disinclination, Jane systematically started to exercise. If his plans failed and he had to escape at some point, he needed to be in decent physical shape. A means of communication was the most important lack, but he was making progress even on that. The guards rigidly adhered to their orders not to communicate, and he suspected his "suite" was bugged anyhow. But he whispered suggestions that one tap would mean "no," and two, "yes." He couldn't ask for much, but their willingness to go along told him he'd gained some degree of cooperation. Once or twice he even had heard Cho talking in the hall outside his door. Cho was quite a bit louder than he had to for the guards to hear. It was enough to know Cho was keeping tabs on the situation, that he wasn't in this alone.

On Wednesday, he woke up groggy, with a headache and no memory after Monday night.

_Shit! I'm in trouble._


	7. Chapter 7 - Detention - Heating Up

**Chapter 7 - Detention - Heating Up**

**Jane**

_Shit! I'm in trouble._

Jane had been drugged before and he had no doubts. He could wait out the bureaucrats, out-think them. But there wasn't much he could do to parry this threat. Head throbbing, he gradually calmed down as thinking kicked in. _They want me to solve cases, so they can't mess me up too bad. Okay. So, not life threatening, nothing permanent._ His eyebrows furrowed with the realization. _They want control. _He snorted to himself and shook his head. _Who? Abbott? He's smarter than that. He wouldn't risk his career. Damn. Fischer then. Silly neophyte who doesn't know how to play the game. _He bit back the urge to swear aloud. _All the more dangerous because she's in over her head. Wonder where she's getting the drugs, whether she even knows what she's doing._ Jaw tight with anger he staggered to the bathroom and showered to try to clear his head. A half hour later, he was still off balance and staggered the two steps to the breakfast tray. The guard looked hard at him, but said nothing.

Jane stared at the cooling food. _To eat or not to eat. That is the question._ He huffed at dissing the classic with the absurd. Except being involuntarily drugged wasn't so trivial. The food was the most likely method. He decided food served just after he'd been drugged was the _least_ likely to be tampered with and finally ate the unappealing mess. From then on he drank only tap water, knowing that the drugging was illegal, off the books. Plumbing changes would be too visible, too likely to attract unwanted attention, so the water at least was safe. He also sharply increased his exercising, knowing it would help metabolize whatever the hell he had ingested. Unfortunately, he still had to eat and therein lay the problem.

The situation went downhill from there. Jane exercised as much as he could and ate cautiously. One guard who radiated calm and religious conviction occasionally tapped once on the door before delivering a tray, warning Jane when it might have been drugged. Jane was sure he had avoided some drugging, but didn't succeed all the time. He completely ignored Fischer when she had the temerity to visit and urge him to agree to their demands. Each time he enjoyed her growing frustration and outrage even though he knew this was a losing hand. Unless he could change the game, the most he could do was slow the inevitable.

**Fischer**

For the second week, Fischer often was around shortly before food trays were delivered to the prisoners - _detainees_. Under guise of inspecting the food, Fischer added a small amount of a colorless, odorless, tasteless liquid to Jane's dinner. While under the influence of the drug, Jane would be unusually suggestible. When a sufficient blood level of the drug was established and maintained, most resistance would disappear. The protocol was simple: Tell the drugged subject the suggestion repeatedly until he complied.

She counted on this to gain the advantage, to create a different mind set. Unfortunately, she could hardly order tests to measure drug blood levels. Jane had obviously figured it out since he was skipping meals. Nevertheless, she was succeeding more often than not in getting him to ingest the drug. Once he signed the documents he would be legally bound. She hoped she could stop soon.

Fischer returned Friday after dinner was over and trays were collected. She was pleased the food was gone from Jane's tray. The change of guards from weekday to weekend reduced the chance a guard would realize anything was out of the ordinary.

"Guard." She flashed her badge and gestured for him to unlock the door. Fischer stepped into the detention suite and waited till the door closed and locked behind her. Jane was lying on the bed covered to his chin, seemingly asleep. _No reaction. Good._ She wouldn't have to make pointless arguments to cover her presence there and could proceed with the script. She flipped the overhead light switch off, leaving only a dim table lamp on. The only stimulus she wanted him to perceive was her voice. She ignored the door's small safety window because it didn't admit much light. And if anyone looked in, all they would see was her talking to the detainee.

She sat down on the edge of the bed in the now-dim room.

"Jane. _Jane!"_ she said urgently. No response, meaning he was a little too out of it. She nervously reviewed her plan as she waited. _Jane capitulates and signs the agreement. There's no proof of anything and who would believe him anyhow? All over before Abbott is back. Jane will come around once he's legally bound or he faces prison._ Five minutes later she got a mumbled reply when she said his name, meaning he was conscious enough for words to register.

"Patrick Jane, sign the FBI's agreement. You will be safe and happy." She repeated the script numerous times. Afterward, she ordered him to repeat it to her. This would be a sign the message was received, embedded. No response. She leaned over, turned his head toward her and repeated the order, voice intense. He muttered some words from the script, though they were jumbled. Pleased, she straightened, her hand relaxing and trailing from his cheek.

She stiffened at the feel of the bare skin of his chest. She puffed out a short breath. _Of course. His clothes are being washed._ She started to draw back then paused. Her eyes closed. _How _did_ Lisbon control him?_ She looked down, seeing past the infuriating prisoner to the handsome man on the beach. She licked her lips, and her hand ghosted over his chest, drawing the sheet further down. _Could I do that - long term?_ Her hand unconsciously drifted over his abdomen. _Would it be right?_ She swallowed._ Would it be wrong? He helped put away hundreds. Would that be so wrong?_ Her eyes closed. She abruptly rose and pounded on the door.

"Guard!" He let her out and stared as she hurried away.

**Cho**

Cho manufactured yet another excuse to be at Hotel FBI. He made sure he knew Fischer's whereabouts to avoid any chance of them meeting there. Cho wasn't sure what was going on. Abbott was still in Chicago. Fischer seemed more withdrawn daily. And the game with Jane was dragging on too long. He knew the ugly effects of solitary confinement and over a month was crossing the line into abuse. _Hell, the FBI must have regs limiting its duration._ He needed to find out why any safeguards were being ignored.

He walked down the detainee hall and nodded courteously to the guard. On his way back the guard dropped his clipboard, scattering papers over the floor. He bent to help gather them even before the guard motioned him to.

In a whisper, "You a friend of his?" The guard motioned to Jane's door with his head.

Cho nodded, taking his time to gather the papers.

"He's being drugged."

"What?!" Cho managed to hold it down.

"Listen, man. I was in the Army during Abu Ghraib. We're better than this."

Slowly sliding the last sheets toward them, "Will you help get a blood sample?"

The guard bobbed, which to surveillance cameras wouldn't look like anything. "Yeah," he breathed. "Food samples, too. I'm George Freedman."

"Cho."

They simultaneously straightened. "Thanks, sir," the guard said at normal volume.

"No problem." Cho strode off, mind grappling with the unwelcome news.

**Lisbon**

It was Saturday morning. Lisbon had been up since midnight when Cho called. She nursed her third coffee while she thought through what to do next. _Since when does the FBI abuse US citizens like this? Dammit, he may be a cold bastard, but I thought Abbott was straight arrow. _Finally deciding on her next step, she made the call and was on an early flight to Sacramento.

Lisbon pulled up to the large, graceful house surrounded by a wrought iron fence. _Bet that's not the only security_, she thought. She pushed the intercom button and the gates opened after she identified herself.

The maid carried their coffee and tea on a tray which she set down in front of the two women.

"Teresa, it's a pleasure. You're looking good."

"As are you, Madeline," she replied. _She does, though a little tired. Must be a mountain of work getting a new agency off the ground._

"To what do I owe this sudden visit?" Hightower saw Lisbon pick up her faint emphasis on "sudden." _Job? Reference?_

"I need your advice and help."

"About?"

_Political and cagey as always. _"Are you sure your house is secure – not bugged?"

Hightower straightened in surprise. "Yes. It's scanned weekly. Speak."

"Jane voluntarily returned to the US. He's in FBI custody in Austin."

"Under Abbott," Hightower surmised. "And?"

"The FBI will drop all charges if Jane works for the FBI for five years."

"Sounds like an opportunity, not a problem," Hightower commented quietly.

Lisbon plowed on. "That would be fine, but Jane won't live on a leash under parolee status. And he insists on working with me."

Cautiously, "What kind of help do you want?"

"Madeline, Jane could work it out with Abbott but the FBI is playing dirty. Jane's been in solitary confinement over a month. I've just learned he's also being drugged."

Hightower sipped her tea, buying time before reacting. "Has he been charged, arraigned? Where is he that they get away with this?"

Lisbon took a deep breath. "The FBI skirts the law by not filing charges if a suspect 'voluntarily' remains confined in a–"

Hightower nodded and interrupted, "–I've heard. Where?"

"An FBI detention center in Austin."

"What do you need from me?"

"How do I get access? What can I do to protect him?"

Hightower leaned back. "Teresa, I'm not FBI. I have no pull there."

"You owe Jane. He got Red John and gave you your life back. I'm calling in the chits."

Hightower set her teacup down. Dryly, "You've changed." _You used to be scared of me._

As dryly, "I have. Now what do I do?"

Hightower poured more tea and thought for several minutes. "Access. You need a court order - or a credible threat of one. But that requires proof of abuse." She looked at Lisbon, one eyebrow quirked.

"Working on it. I should be able to get blood and food samples to prove the drugging."

"If you can get that, Abbott should relent on threat of taking it to court. An Austin judge would handle it, likely _in camera_. The FBI gets a lot of leeway, but drugging and prolonged incommunicado incarceration are beyond the pale."

"What if I don't want to take it to court? The charges Jane faces could get him 20-to-life."

"You strong arm Abbott. Frankly, I can't believe he did something that stupid. If not booted, this could sideline his career."

"I also want Jane examined and treated by a doctor I choose."

"Wise. I'm not sure you have standing."

"I still have his medical power of attorney from when I was his boss."

Her eyebrows climbed. "Something more to negotiate with Abbott. If you did have to go to court, having medical power would buttress your status in speaking for Jane."

"Do you know a top attorney in Austin capable of fighting this? And if Jane's charged, someone who could defend him against the criminal charges?"

"Not Austin. But Dallas. –Maria, get me my cell phone and a paper and pencil," she called. She looked up the phone number and copied it for Lisbon. "Give him my regards if you contact him. He's very good."

Lisbon started to rise, but was stopped by Hightower's hand.

"Sit. Tell me how you've been. And did you see Jane? How is he?"

Lisbon left an hour later, considerably calmer than she had arrived.

**Cho**

Cho needed to find a way of getting a blood sample and food sample. He'd need a syringe. He also would need to wait till the guard told him Jane's meal had been drugged.

He spent time after work days talking to agents from other teams. Curiosity about the Red John case and exposing Blake gave him an easy way to start conversations. He learned Abbott wasn't particularly liked, but he was respected. Everyone had the same opinion: Intelligent, street‑smart, by-the-book and relentless.

Cho cadged a clean syringe from a diabetic friend. And it wasn't long until the guard placed a white sheet of paper in a window, their signal to let Cho know when Jane's meal had been drugged.

**Fischer**

_I'm close, so close,_ she thought as she pretended to check Jane's food only to add the drug. Jane's resistance was noticeably weakening.

After the meal was done and the trays collected, she returned and entered Jane's detention room. He was drugged, out of it as expected. She went through the well‑known routine. Ceiling light off. Wait for him to be conscious enough to respond to his name. This time she also hung her scarf in front of the door's small window.

She patiently repeated the script. When she demanded that he say it, he almost had it. She smiled, relieved it was working.

Fischer felt a frisson of fear? excitement? des– _no, just nerves_ – at what she was going to test. _If he feels good, likes me, maybe he'll cooperate more on cases._ It had been years since he had the company of a compatible woman, someone from the same culture. _'Being understood is an underrated pleasure,' isn't that what he said?_ She tentatively reached out and undid the first few buttons of his island shirt. _Shirt's ridiculous, but he's not._ She reached inside and stroked his chest with a feather touch. Jane stirred. She watched closely, but saw no discomfort, no resistance. Emboldened, she unfastened the rest of the buttons. Her touch was stronger, less tentative. He sighed, humming a little, still incoherent. Fischer licked her lips, breathing through her mouth. She wouldn't do much, just a little, just to see if he was receptive. She could tell he was comforted. She brushed his too-long hair from his face. Whispering, she said, "I can make you happy, Patrick. You'll be free of murder charges. Just solve cases like you did before. Could be good." She stroked his face.

He sighed, "Lisbon" and she froze. She shook her head, grabbed her scarf, and called for the guard to let her out.

**Jane**

Jane woke fuzzy headed with another splitting headache. He glanced out the door's window and saw his favorite guard George was on duty. Jane had guessed wrong again. He was having a harder time thinking, even after the major effects wore off. _Jesus, I've gotta get out of here,_ he thought, making his way to the sink. He bit his lip. _Uh, been drugged again. S'posed to do something. _He stood a moment till he remembered. He carefully lifted the toilet tank cover and pulled a small zip-locked plastic bag out from where it had been trapped under the lid. Tank water was clean of course and the bag unlikely to be discovered when the room was periodically searched. Since he had nothing but his clothes, they never found anything. Their searches had gotten sloppy.

He had long ago determined the bathroom wasn't under surveillance, though the main room was. Fischer was managing his incarceration and must receive the surveillance AV. Jane tore a narrow strip from the thin bath towel and tied it around his upper arm. Then he opened the alcohol packet and swabbed the vein in the crook of his left elbow. He uncapped the needle, waited till his hand stopped shaking, pressed the plunger to expel the air, and drew a full syringe of blood. He didn't like needles, but this would be proof positive he was being drugged. He'd heard Cho's voice talking about "happy to help" just before he found the syringe hidden on his meal tray. Cho must have a plan because no other explanation fit. He capped the needle, sealed the syringe in the bag and hid it in the toilet tank. He would put it on his tray after the next meal, confident George would retrieve it.

Jane stood there. _There's something wrong. Something important. _Think_ Paddy!_ He glanced up and caught sight of himself in the modest bathroom mirror, one made of polished metal that couldn't be broken. _My shirt's unbuttoned._ He frowned thinking hard. _No, I've been busy with the blood sample. And – yesterday? Why would I leave it unbuttoned?_ He loathed the lack of privacy in detention and always wore all the clothes he had except for the suit jacket.

He breathed faster as he became convinced of his suspicion. He shrugged the shirt off. There were no marks. And his pants seemed undisturbed. _Thank god!_ He stripped, turned the shower on and stood under the water a long time, feeling defiled. _That twisted bitch. I'll rot in prison before I work with her. What the hell is she thinking?! _

It was time to change the game. From that moment he ingested nothing but tap water. Something had to give.


	8. Chapter 8 - Detention - Breaking Free

**Chapter 8: Detention - Breaking Free**

**Abbott**

"Abbott. What is it, Lira? ... Refer him to Legal. ... He does, huh? Forget Legal. I'm going to call his bluff. Have the clinic arrange a full tox screen. Chain of custody protocol. I want a preliminary report by the time I get in tomorrow. –And tell Fischer Lisbon's trying to interfere with Jane. ... Oh, and I need that Blake paperwork faxed to me. ... One o'clock is fine. Thanks, Lira."

On Friday, Abbott hefted his carry-on and draped the garment bag over his shoulder. It was mid-afternoon and his flight from Chicago had gotten in early. Leah had organized a fancy dinner after the graduation ceremony on Saturday. He wanted time to shift gears and actually _enjoy_ the occasion – not just shoehorn it into his schedule as one more thing to do.

His cell vibrated in his breast pocket. He stepped outside of the steady stream of passengers to take the call.

"Lira, just landed. ... I'm here for my daughter's graduation, not meetings and paperwork. ... Did that tox report come in? ... It what?! Read me the summary. ... Let Moore and Lisbon wait in the lobby. ... Have Fischer meet me in my office in half an hour." He managed not to swear aloud as he swiftly made his way out. He'd meet with Fischer and find out what was going on before tackling Moore and Lisbon.

**Lisbon, Moore and Abbott**

Lisbon murmured to the attorney, "This really will work?"

Just as softly, "Absolutely. The report is proof of drugging. And your friend was smart to use the lab the FBI normally uses. You realize the full report–"

"–can take weeks. I was a homicide detective. Most important thing is getting Jane released without Abbott filing charges."

"We should get that. Jane's best bet is–" Moore suddenly stood to his imposing 6'2" height. After an instant, Lisbon followed suit.

"Mr. Moore, Chief Lisbon? Please follow me."

Abbott sat at his pristine desk as Lisbon and Moore were ushered in. Lira closed the door behind her as she left. Abbott motioned them to be seated. He didn't offer to shake hands.

"Mr. Moore, you asked to meet?" He leaned back, expression neutral.

"Agent Abbott, I represent Chief Lisbon who is acting as a proxy for Patrick Jane. We have learned Mr. Jane has been illegally detained in solitary confinement for over a month. And, he has been involuntarily drugged. This meeting is a courtesy. You can remedy this now - immediately - or I can get a court order to release Mr. Jane."

"Mr. Moore, I do not see that Ms. Lis–"

"-_Chief_ Lisbon," Moore interrupted.

Abbott paused a second. "–_Chief _Lisbon has any legal standing to intercede in Mr. Jane's affairs. As you may know, he was a fugitive from justice and person of interest in a murder case. This is a government matter."

"So Mr. Jane has been advised of his rights and is being represented by an attorney?" Moore responded with a half smile. "Thought not. Chief Lisbon has medical power of attorney for Mr. Jane and I'd say prolonged solitary confinement and involuntary drugging are relevant medical concerns. Further, Mr. Jane has not been charged with any crime. The FBI is violating due process and his civil rights. Illegal incarceration and assault _by a government agency_ are no less illegal."

After a minute of silence. "What do you want?"

"The immediate release of Mr. Jane."

"Mr. Jane was a fugitive from justice and is a suspect in a serious criminal matter."

Moore straightened. "Either release him or we'll get a court order." He pulled a sheaf of papers from his briefcase. "We have proof of drugging. And Chief Lisbon can attest to the FBI's refusal to allow any contact with Mr. Jane for over a month."

"As a fugitive from justice–"

"–Who voluntarily returned. Enough Blake members have been arrested that he might survive the judicial process."

"-Mr. Jane is negotiating with the FBI. If we do not _voluntarily _reach an agreement, we _will_ charge him with murder among other serious crimes."

"Agent Abbott, do you really want to add coercion to the FBI's actions? Mr. Jane must be released from solitary confinement immediately so he can secure legal representation. And he must be examined by a physician of our choice. Today."

Abbott took a moment to review the toxicology report handed to him by Moore, noting the issuing laboratory.

"I will release Mr. Jane if he agrees to stay within Austin city limits guarded by one of my agents."

"What agent? As the agent responsible for these outrages, Agent Fischer is not acceptable."

"Agent Cho."

Moore glanced at Lisbon who nodded. Moore allowed himself a slight smile. "That sounds reasonable. We'd like to see Mr. Jane now, with our physician."

Abbott got up. "You can follow me. Our detention center is a mile from here." On his way out, Abbott had Lira tell Cho to meet them.

A few minutes later they arrived at the detention center and Abbott led them to Jane's detention cell. He flashed his badge.

"Open up." The guard looked startled, then seemed about to speak. At Abbott's icy glare he closed his mouth and unlocked the door.

Abbott stepped in first, followed by Moore and Lisbon. Despite it being just late afternoon, Jane was lying on the bed covered to his chin with blanket and sheet.

"Jane."

Jane turned his head and, catching sight of Lisbon, smiled faintly.

"Yes?" he asked without moving.

"We need to talk." Irritated by the situation and Jane's blatant disrespect, Abbott added with exaggerated solicitousness, "Would you mind rising so we can discuss this civilly?"

Jane's smile widened, predatory and cold. "As you wish." He slid back and sat against the wall, bedding falling to his waist. Abbott's face froze. Lisbon's eyes widened. Moore looked at her in confusion.

Pissed, "We'll wait outside while you get dressed."

Acidly, "You'll be waiting awhile, _Dennis. _My clothes won't be returned till tomorrow after laundering."

Abbott's eyes closed and he stood stock still. He turned and shepherded the other two out of the room.

"Guard, get this man some clothes." Unable to leave his post, the guard called the front desk. A few minutes later an orange jumpsuit, underwear, and soft slip-on shoes were delivered. Abbott nodded and the guard entered and handed the clothes to Jane. Jane wrapped the blanket around himself, took the clothes to the bathroom and dressed. By now, Cho had arrived and waited with the others.

"Release him," Abbott said to the guard and signed the log sheet. "We'll continue this discussion in a meeting room. Cho, you are responsible for guarding Mr. Jane starting now. He is not to leave Austin city limits." Abbott turned to walk away.

"A moment, Agent," Moore said. Abbott turned back. "I have a board certified internist waiting in my vehicle. Before Mr. Jane leaves these premises, I want two sets of samples taken for a toxicology screen. I'm sure you appreciate the benefits of having reliable information for further discussions." He turned to face Jane. "If you have no objections, Mr. Jane?"

Jane glanced at Lisbon who nodded encouragingly. "I'm happy to provide samples." Lisbon got the physician. She also brought in a duffel bag with a complete change of clothes for Jane. Dr. Kendall showed Abbott two sets of empty vials for blood, urine, and hair. He and Jane were shown to a men's room. The samples were collected and sealed in evidence bags labeled with Jane's name. Jane changed into regular clothing instead of the screaming orange jumpsuit.

With Abbott looking on, the two sets of evidence bags were separately sealed in boxes addressed to the toxicology lab used by the Austin FBI. In one box, the results were directed to Moore's office; the other, to Abbott. Legal and workplace screenings were the bread and butter of the lab. Its protocols ensured that a defensible chain of evidence would be maintained. Jane got just his shoes and his personal effects before they left, happy to abandon the clothing he had been wearing since he arrived from South America. Kendall left by taxi. Everyone else returned to the FBI headquarters where both sample boxes were added to others ready to be picked up by the lab later on.

Abbott, Jane, Lisbon and Moore entered the conference room. Jane leaned over to Moore and told him he'd take it from here. Moore whispered urgently in Lisbon's ear. She whispered a brief reply, then also whispered something to Jane.

Jane fished out the napkin that listed his terms and placed it on the table in front of him. Moore raised his eyebrows, asking permission. Jane nodded and Moore and Lisbon skimmed the napkin while Abbott settled himself with his file.

"Mr. Jane, the FBI is offering to forgo all charges in return for consulting with the FBI for five years. You will have parolee status under my direction. Given recent ... events, you will work on a team that does not include Agent Fischer."

Jane leaned back and smiled thinly. "Those _were_ your terms. Things have changed." He leaned forward. "Solitary confinement for 43 days without being informed of my rights or having access to counsel - or anyone else! Drugging. Forced nudity with the excuse of laundering my clothes. And," he swallowed, "other abuses. This happened on your watch, Abbott. This could sideline your career."

"Your suggestion?"

"My terms," he motioned to the napkin. "With adjustments. You must offer Lisbon a position at the FBI at a level commensurate with team leader, with all the rights and protections of a regular agent - including opportunities for advancement." This time Lisbon didn't object. "She and I will consult with the FBI for five years or a shorter period at your discretion. You will offer Agent Cho the opportunity to work with us. His choice to accept or refuse. And I am a free man. No parolee status and an ironclad guarantee that charges will not be filed after the agreement ends. Finally, under no circumstance will I ever work with Agent Fischer."

Abbott turned to Lisbon. "I can't obligate someone to work with you, Jane."

"Make it attractive enough so she will."

The silence stretched long. Abbott grudgingly responded. "If I agree, you will forgo any legal action regarding the period from your return to today, and agree to keep confidential any information regarding your stay in the detention suite."

Jane nodded stiffly.

Moore interjected smoothly, "I will be happy to draft language to that effect by Monday. If you can provide me with a list of the charges to be dropped–" Abbott slid over the FBI's draft contract from the first negotiations.

"FBI legal staff will have to review it," Abbot noted.

After glancing at Lisbon and receiving a nod, "I'll also draft language to include in the FBI's offer letter to Chief Lisbon."

Abbott stood. "If that's all, we'll meet next as soon as language is finalized." Looking at Jane, "Agent Cho will stay at a local hotel with you at FBI expense, Jane."

"This wouldn't have happened had you honored our agreement, Abbott."

Jane, Lisbon and Moore made their way to the lobby where Cho got up and joined them as they left.

**Abbot and Fischer**

It was after hours when Abbott returned to the FBI building. Passing Fischer's office he growled, "My office. Now."

She hesitantly entered and sat down. Abbott finished making notes on his computer before clicking it off and looking up.

"Jane and I reached an agreement. He gets his original terms. And more."

"How will we control him if he isn't under parolee status? Hiring Lisbon makes no sense since she isn't a qualified FBI agent!"

"Fischer, you don't have a clue how badly you fucked this up, do you?" he asked calmly. "I'm giving Jane everything he asked for because you handed me a loss. Assault. Forced nudity – which after Abu Ghraib and Gitmo is seen for the abuse it is. Violating protocol for solitary confinement alone would get you an official reprimand."

Hotly, "I tried everything. Jane wouldn't even talk to me. What was I supposed to do?"

Abbott looked away, sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Tiredly, "What you tried to do. It was my mistake leaving you to manage Jane's confinement–"

"–But." A glare stopped her cold.

"I compounded that mistake by failing to provide guidance when you asked. You are suspended without pay for two weeks, but you won't lose your job."

She opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to marshal the words she needed.

"Needless to say, team leader is off the table. You'll be joining me on the Blake case next. And you will attend the next available seminar on due process and civil rights in law enforcement at your own expense."

Her face paled and she looked about to explode – or implode.

"Dismissed." Abbott gathered a few papers, rose, and left. Fischer sat, stunned, for a long while before leaving his empty office.


	9. Chapter 9 - Now What?

**Chapter 9: Now What?**

**Team Lisbon**

Jane led the way, stride lengthening till Lisbon was trotting to keep up. Once outsideJane stopped dead and the others stepped aside awkwardly to avoid crashing into him. A car honked and he visibly startled before turning to the other three.

"What now?"

Placing her hand on his arm, "Jane, Dr. Kendall is waiting for us. You need to be examined," Lisbon said calmly.

Stiffening, "No. I'm fine, just need a meal and, uh, hotel room."

Smoothly, "Mr. Jane, as your counsel – you _do _accept me as your attorney, don't you?" Moore waited politely. Jane glanced at Lisbon who raised her eyebrows and nodded encouragingly. After intently looking him up and down Jane nodded. "–As your attorney, I strongly recommend having a physician examine you. Should this ever end up in court, documented facts by a credible third party will be invaluable."

After a long pause, Jane inhaled deeply then exhaled slowly, much of the tension leaving his shoulders.

Cho spoke up. "Jane, I'm responsible for you. I'll pull the SUV up." He walked off toward the parking lot. Jane looked at Lisbon.

"Mr. Moore, I need to ride with them. Would you mind following?"

"I have nothing to contribute there. If you can tell me the hotel, I'd like to meet with you–" Lisbon began to frown and he hastened to emphasize, "–_briefly_ to pin down the details about the agreement. And offer letter."

After Cho pulled up, Lisbon moved her luggage to Cho's vehicle. Moore left for the Omni Southpark Hotel where Cho said they would be staying and the other three left for Dr. Kendall's office.

The better part of an hour later Kendall emerged alone while Jane got dressed.

"Ms. Lisbon, Mr. Cho, Mr. Jane gave me permission to share his medical information with you. Overall, he is in excellent physical health. He is underweight by 18 pounds which he explained is because he has been skipping meals. And his reflexes are slightly impaired. That is consistent with the drug he was receiving as identified by the toxicology report you showed me. Most of the drug would have been eliminated from his system in the three days since he stopped eating. The rest will be metabolized and excreted gradually over the next week. Any questions?"

Lisbon had to ask, "No sign of other abuse?"

"Not physical. As for his mental and emotional status, 40 days of solitary confinement invariably has an effect. Mr. Jane is exhibiting some typical reactions."

"We're in law enforcement and know the impact of solitary confinement. Can you tell us about Jane?"

"I have no baseline since this is my first meeting. I do observe he startles easily, is generally anxious, and seems skeptical verging on paranoid about a simple medical examination." Kendall glanced at Cho when he snorted softly, then continued. "He seems to be somewhat emotional. As you probably know, these effects will lessen over time but may never completely disappear."

Jane quietly joined them.

Lisbon asked, "Is there any kind of follow-up needed?"

"No. Some diagnostic results won't be back till next week. I or my nurse will call with the results either way." He turned to Jane. "Mr. Jane, solitary confinement has significant psychological effects. I encourage you to seek professional help."

"Thank you." Lisbon looked at Jane who belatedly added his own thanks.

They finally were on their way. Lisbon sat in back with Jane while Cho drove. Jane let his head fall back, eyes closed.

"You okay?" Lisbon asked, mindful of how much had transpired for him during the day.

"Getting there." He opened his eyes and gave her the first smile since their initial meeting over a month ago. "Thanks to you. And you," he added, including Cho.

Cho caught his eye in the mirror. "Jane, I need your word you won't disappear."

Jane said carefully, "So long as you're responsible for me, I won't disappear." Feeling Lisbon stiffen in the seat next to him, he added more softly, "Why would I vanish? I _chose_ to come back. I'll make this work." Lisbon relaxed

"Good."

They sat in silence for the rest of the short drive. _The team strong-armed Abbott so I could meet Bertram - go after Red John. I owe them more than I can ever repay. _His reminiscing was interrupted when Cho parked at the hotel. Cho took a three-bedroom suite with a shared living area. They had a bellhop take up Lisbon's luggage and Cho's go-bag when Jane insisted he couldn't wait longer for tea. Or food. Moore met up with them and went over a few points in the agreement, then left for his short flight back to Dallas.

They opened the door to the suite. Cho checked each room from an excess of caution then picked up his go bag and chose a bedroom at random.

"Must be nice working for a bureau with money," Lisbon commented wistfully, looking around.

Jane muttered, "Nicer. Still a cage." Lisbon let it pass, picked up her carry on and looked at Jane who indicated his indifference with a wave of his hand. She disappeared into a bedroom.

Having nothing but the clothes on his back, Jane poked around the room, made restless by bright colors in the artwork on the walls and the sheer _differentness_ from his surroundings of the past 43 days on top of the past two years. Lisbon found him studying the room service menu when she came back.

"Hungry again?" she asked with a smile.

He started then turned with an answering smile. "It's just a pleasure to read printed material again. In English."

Her smile faded. "What? You – you didn't have anything to read?" She discounted the fake smile he immediately plastered on his face.

"I reread a dozen books, everything Shakespeare, and the Bible, St. James version," he said, tapping his temple. "It may be controversial, but the _language!_ It–"

"Jane." She cut him off, voice sharper than intended. Anger flared at this new detail of abuse.

Cho had also returned. His lips twitched at Jane's inadvertent revelation but he said nothing.

Unable to stay still any longer, Jane turned and faced them. "I really need to take a walk. Lisbon?" She nodded. He looked at Cho. "Two hours." Lisbon stepped back into her room to get her wallet.

Cho nodded and turned away. The Jane of old wouldn't have bothered to reassure him, would have evaded answering if pressed. _Changed. Definitely changed._ Lisbon's company was added insurance. Cho mentally sighed. Divided loyalties were never good on an assignment.

**Lisbon and Jane**

A few minutes later found them outside. Jane walked faster than Lisbon wanted till she was forced to ask him to slow down. That got her a sheepish grin and he set a merely brisk pace. How he divined there was a park nearby she didn't know. _Scent? Sound?_ Once in the park, he slowed to a stroll and they walked side by side in the pleasant early evening. The daytime heat had dwindled to warm. Sunset was painting the western sky with pastels that were graying to darker shades. Spying a bench, Jane guided Lisbon there with a touch on her elbow and they sank onto its sun-warmed slats. They sat near each other with Jane's arm thrown over the seat back.

Suddenly there was too much to talk about with no place to start. "How have you been for the past 700 days?" "How do you feel about killing McAllister?" "How was losing your entire life because of Blake?" ... "What do you want to do with the rest of your life?"

They sat in companionable silence as each gathered scattered thoughts and tried to figure where to start. Ever practical, Lisbon ventured, "You never did say what this is all about."

The corner of Jane's mouth quirked up, "Abbott interrupted us. And then, well, haven't had a free moment." He winked.

Lisbon took a deep breath and bit her lip. "About that. You must have had a plan. What happened?"

Jane closed his eyes. "Abbott offered a get out of jail free card if I work for the FBI." He shrugged. "He implied he accepted my terms in Venezuela." Her eyes teared at learning where he had been for the first time in two years. Jane continued, "Thought it was fifty-fifty whether he'd honor them. Now I know what I'm dealing with."

Doubtfully, "Patrick Jane doesn't throw himself on the mercy of the Feds. What was your leverage?"

He grinned. _Being understood is an underrated pleasure._ "I haven't used it yet. Fischer gummed up the works," he said with icy disdain.

"You're really willing to work for the FBI for five years?"

"Under my terms." She was his first term. He turned and looked at her directly, forgetting to breathe.

Lisbon didn't say anything immediately. She looked him over, drinking in the familiar, assessing the subtle and not-so-subtle changes. He was keyed up, angry about the detention, off balance from the drugs. The big change was what was missing. The sense of teetering on the edge of madness and murder – was gone for the first time she had known him. She swallowed a lump. _Nothing ventured..._

"That depends on you, Jane."

His eyes flicked to her left hand, then met her steady gaze. "You have me at a disadvantage, Teresa," he said softly. "You know about me from my letters. I – I don't know anything about where you are now. If you're happy in Washington..." he couldn't finish.

That earned him a grin. "The great mentalist Patrick Jane doesn't know?" she mocked gently.

He rose to the challenge and enveloped her right hand between both of his. His piercing blue‑green eyes laid her bare. "You're working as a police chief in Washington. You lost ... _everything_ when the CBI was disbanded, after I killed McAllister and ran. Abbott never filed charges. He also never gave you credit for getting Red John and exposing Blake. Since Cho joined the FBI, he isn't with you. Rigsby and Van Pelt–" He read her reaction, "–remain friends, but aren't nearby. Your job is–" he took in her micro-reactions, "boring. So Washington is settling. Just a paycheck. And, no, no serious relationship keeping you warm at night." The blush tinted her cheeks and crept down her neck, making him smile smugly. "Oh, something kept you warm at night, but it wasn't in Washington." She pulled her hand from his and whapped him lightly on the chest.

"Jane!"

"Lisbon, I came back because everything – every_one_ – I care about is here. I'll gladly work for the FBI if," he swallowed with difficulty, "–if I get back what I had at the CBI."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow and murmured, "'Except for that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?'"

"Except for that."

She licked her lips. Softly, "I've missed you, too. Red John_ is_ dead. But I want more than being your sidekick as we solve cases for Abbott," she said, faint disgust coloring her voice at Abbott's name. "You – you're ready to move on?" she asked tentatively, expressing hope more than certainty. Sunlight glinted off the wedding band that remained on his hand.

His smile broke like sunrise. "Despite my 'devotion' to law enforcement, I want more too. A lot more."

"You meant what you said? No disappearing?"

His arm draped around her shoulders and he puller her closer. "I want to be where you are, Teresa. That will never change." She couldn't say anything around the lump in her throat. She nestled against him with a sigh, giving him the answer he needed.

After a while, he shifted uneasily. She looked up. "What is it?"

"What if Blake isn't over for us?"

She frowned. "Abbott is still working Blake. We don't know if he wants us to work it."

"We may get sucked back in, no matter what. Can – are you up for that?"

She tilted her head and a crease appeared between her eyebrows. "You know something, don't you?"

"_Suspect_, Lisbon. –A hunch."

She straightened and pulled away to face him, eyes fiery. "I'd _love_ to put away those bastards. Their dirt smeared everyone in law enforcement. Too bad Bertram's already dead."

He grinned. "That's my Lisbon." He drew her into a hug. "I've missed you so much."

They parted to face one another. The world around faded as their total attention focused on each other. Jane licked his lips and drew closer, breathing shallow and fast. Lisbon tilted her chin up, eyelids fluttering shut as she closed the distance and brushed his lips with hers. His arms tightened, pressing her to him. One kiss became dozens. He sprinkled them on her cheeks, eyelids, forehead, jaw and then lips again, and she eagerly returned his kisses. Breathing heavily, they finally drew apart, green eyes shining into blue-green, cheeks aching from too-wide, too-persistent smiles.


	10. Chapter 10 - Changes

**Chapter 10: Changes**

**Jane and Lisbon**

Hand in hand, Jane and Lisbon retraced their steps out of the park. Street lamps began to glow as night fell. In sheer exhilaration, Jane took two graceful strides and launched himself off the concrete lamp base to swing around the pole. Jumping down he grabbed both her hands and swung her around several times.

Laughing and breathless, "Jane, stop, stop! I'm dizzy."

His smile put all earlier ones to shame. The smile was no longer a mask, but open joy. _Happy at last,_ she thought with a lump in her throat and realized a second later she was too.

Back to walking, he observed, "I never got my closed case pizza. Call Cho and tell him we're bringing it."

"What? And how will we find a pizza place?"

"Saw it in the local guide at the hotel. This way, a few blocks."

**Jane, Lisbon, and Cho**

A half hour later Lisbon and Jane opened the door to the suite. Cho set aside his book. They put the pizza on the small round table while Cho distributed napkins and chilled bottles of beer. Jane shed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, ready to dig in.

Cho. "Why pizza?" as they rapidly made it vanish.

"Closed case pizza two years late," Jane informed him. "We closed Red John. We even finished with Blake when the FBI took over."

"Could say that."

"Look," Jane glanced at his friends and former colleagues. "I realize it cost all of you. But the SCU accomplished the extraordinary. Let the cop in you take some satisfaction."

Impassively, "Okay."

Amused, Lisbon chided, "Don't get so carried away, Cho." _God I miss the team. Pizza with Jane and Cho. Like old times._ "Huh?" she asked, realizing she'd missed a question.

Cho repeated, "You're gonna work for the FBI then," more statement than question.

She glanced at Jane, "If the offer comes through. –How'd you know?"

He snorted softly, glancing from one to the other. "You haven't stopped smiling. Jane may spontaneously combust." _Hell, happiness is rolling off him in waves. Never seen him so happy – for real, not just a front._

Jane finished chewing and washed down the bite. "Cho, my friend, you have decisions to make too." Lisbon watched curiously but kept silent, knowing this was Jane's case to make.

Cho set his beer down. Wary, "Like?"

"I upped the ante. My original terms plus two. Abbott has to offer you the choice of working with me – us. And no Fischer."

Impassively, "Why?"

Jane leaned back, patting a visibly fuller stomach in satisfaction. His face grew serious. "So far, Austin isn't working out for you. After six months Abbott doesn't trust you, you don't trust him. You respect Fischer as an agent–" Jane's eyes narrowed as Cho's minute reactions suggested that opinion had changed, "–but don't want to work under her. And ..." he studied Cho closely, "you wanted to work on ... Blake?" He continued confidently as Cho's tells confirmed his guess, "but haven't had the chance. Anything I'm missing?"

Cho thought for a minute. "What's in it for you?"

"I owe you."

"You do."

"I _do,_" Jane echoed, sharp tone leaving no doubt about his sincerity.

"What else?"

Jane leaned back, tapping his lower lip with a forefinger. Cho and Lisbon exchanged glances. Jane continued, "I've recently had a lot of time to think," his familiar cheeky grin flashed and faded. "Abbott's been working Blake for two years. All the easy ones are behind bars. Which leaves the hard ones, the big fish. If it was as easy as checking for red dot tattoos, it would be wrapped up. He was away–"

"–Chicago," Cho supplied.

"–for over a month. Longer than planned judging by Fischer's floundering. Not going well. So long as the Blake leaders are out there, Blake isn't over." He paused.

"True. But that's not why you're interested."

Jane swallowed. "Anyone I care about is in law enforcement. You. Lisbon. Rigsby and Van Pelt?"

"Private detective agency now," Lisbon clarified.

"No matter. You're all vulnerable working among corrupt cops. Some may target you personally for exposing the conspiracy."

"How does that figure into my decision?"

Jane leaned forward. "l have to work for the FBI for five years. May as well tackle something important. Something important to us."

"How do we convince Abbott?" Lisbon asked, snorting in disdain.

"We make ourselves useful. I know what we can do. Abbott's about to find out."

Cho closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. "Maybe. Let you know after I talk to Abbott."

Jane grinned widely. _Cho is most of the way there. Lisbon, Cho. Like coming home._

Jane pulled the deck of cards they bought at a drug store from his vest. "Now, how about a little fun?"

"For you, maybe. We know better," Lisbon protested.

"Um, how 'bout this? I'll prop up that giant, pretentious hotel service guide so I can't see your faces, just the cards. Should even the odds."

"Why not?" Cho agreed with a hint of a smile.

Lisbon added, "Only Cho and I shuffle and deal. You just cut."

Jane grinned, "Suspicious, aren't you? Hey! I spent two years on a tropical isle rusting away."

"Since when do I look like Rigsby?" Cho grunted. Rigsby had always been a sucker for Jane's games and schemes.

"What do we play for?"

Jane reached back and grabbed the bag from the pizza parlor. "M & M's." He glanced at Lisbon. "You've spent a bundle on flights because of me. I need to repay you. –Cho, any casino gambling in Aus–"

"No!" they answered in unison. Cho continued, "Jane, you are technically my prisoner. Not going gambling on my watch."

Jane grimaced a little as he divided the candy bits equally. "No matter. I'll get you your money soon, Lisbon." Jane fetched the guide and set it on an ice bucket and a couple of boxes of boutique tissue.

"Better believe it." She smiled. "I'm gonna collect in person."

Their game broke up a couple of hours later, Jane having won most of the candy. When prodded, he reluctantly told them their breathing changed depending on how good their cards were. Cho called it a night after commenting how it was a good reminder before working with Jane again.

Lisbon and Jane straightened the mess, then sank onto the couch with sighs.

"You feeling okay?" she asked, searching his features for signs of the drugs and maybe exhaustion.

"You're here. How could I not?" He patted the couch, encouraging her to move closer. They spent another couple of hours talking about everything and nothing. Lisbon talked a little about Washington, and filled him in on Rigsby and Van Pelt's doings. Jane answered some questions about the island and people he had mentioned. When Jane stopped talking, Lisbon looked around to find he had fallen asleep. She thought about getting up, but was too comfortable nestled against his side to move.

**Cho**

Cho found them sleeping on the couch Saturday morning. Jane semi-reclined against the corner of the couch with Lisbon leaning against him, arms loosely clasped around Jane's arm draped around her waist. It reminded him how much he missed the CBI, missed the team. This made his decision as much as Jane's pitch. Now he only needed some facts from Abbott.

He returned to his room and read for awhile. A bit later he was surprised to get a text from Abbott directing him to meet at the FBI at 10 a.m. Cho knew from the grapevine that Abbott was in town to attend his daughter's graduation and wondered what was so important that he wanted to meet. Cho was glad to have a chance to get his questions answered sooner rather than later – and especially before Lisbon had to return to Washington on Sunday.

**Cho and Abbott**

Cho knocked and entered when Abbott waved him in through the glass panel. "Yes, Sir?"

Abbott motioned for Cho to sit. "Where's Jane?"

"In the conference room."

Slightly frowning, "He'll stick around?"

"With Lisbon. And I have his word."

Abbott leaned back with a slight smile on his face. With an edge,"Well, then. Guess that's all you need." Cho nodded tightly but didn't say anything. "You know I'm forming a new team with Jane on it."

"Fischer's team?"

"And that is why you're here. Fischer's going to work Blake. I'm offering you the team leader position."

Though his face was expressionless, Cho's surprise showed when he straightened and let out a quiet huff. "Why, Sir?"

"Agent Fischer can be better utilized elsewhere. You have extensive experience and well-documented leadership potential. You declined several opportunities for promotion at the CBI."

"What would the team look like?"

"You get Jane. And Lisbon if she agrees to work for the FBI. You get your pick of the unassigned data analysts. Next budget year you'll get one more agent position."

"What types of cases, what are the expectations?"

"The powers that be think Jane is God's gift to solving cases. You will be responsible for making him work within the FBI. Your cases will run the gamut – anything that isn't a specialty case like Fraud, Art Theft, or Organized Crime."

Cho sat silently for a few minutes. He finally looked at Abbott with a level gaze. "Permission to speak freely?"

"Go ahead."

"It's been six months and you still suspect I'm part of Blake. I can't lead a team under suspicion."

"Let me put your mind at ease, Cho. You've been investigated six ways from sundown and nothing has surfaced. At this point I'm confident you are _not_ Blake. You'll get a fair shot."

"And Jane and Lisbon?"

"However many misgivings I have about Jane, we've had him under surveillance for over a year. There have been no contacts by any known Blake member while he was on that island. I haven't turned up any evidence that he was in Blake before he ran after killing McAllister. –I _tentatively _assume Jane isn't Blake."

"Isn't that a gamble?"

"The SCU seemed to operate in its own tight bubble. If you and Lisbon aren't Blake, odds are pretty good Jane isn't. If he is, it'll come out. Either way, I win."

Cho took a deep breath. "Abbott, I have one more question." Abbott nodded. "What aspects of Jane's detention were at your direction?"

Abbott's gaze hardened. "Fischer managed Jane's confinement. Her specific actions were against the regs. I found out about the ... extra-legal measures yesterday."

"You turned a blind eye."

Abbott frowned. "I _am_ responsible for everything that happens in this office. But nothing beyond the detention was sanctioned by me. My work on Blake in Chicago took precedence, and I am dealing with the fallout of that reality. I have nothing more to say. Take it or leave it, Cho."

"May I give you my answer on Monday?"

"Yes." At Abbott's nod, Cho left.

Abbott sat for awhile, gaze unfocused. _This is either the smartest move I could make. Or the dumbest. Definitely a risk letting such a tight team reconstitute itself. If they aren't Blake and Jane delivers, could be worth it. Just how much chaos am I in for? –Damn Fischer's inexperience. And my negligence."_


	11. Chapter 11 - Reset

**Chapter 11: Reset**

**Cho, Lisbon and Jane**

A preoccupied Cho fetched them from the conference room. Nothing was said other than Cho's "Let's go" till they were outside. Paradoxically, all three felt they were leaving enemy territory.

"What's goin' on?" Lisbon asked for the second time in as many days. _I need a new line. Or control over my life._

"Lunch?" Jane interjected brightly. _Abbott handed him a wild card. Needs space._

Lisbon seamlessly picked up Jane's redirection. "Cho, how about a mall? Jane needs – everything," she finished, a little surprised. The only reason Jane had clothes was because she'd brought them. She set aside her simmering irritation at the FBI's high handedness, again smothering concerns about willingly joining - _that_.

Cho drove to a nearby mall and chose a chain restaurant. Jane led them to an outdoor table shaded by an awning. No one would mistake the food for gourmet, but it was reliably good. Jane finished his and anything Lisbon and Cho didn't eat. Cho almost kidded him on pulling a "Rigsby" till he recalled why Jane was so hungry. They made small talk through the meal.

Cho finally broached the unspoken. "Abbott made me an offer." Cho noticed Jane subtly checking that no one was within earshot. _Just cautious? Or solitary trauma?_

"For?" Lisbon prompted.

"Team leader. I'd get Jane."

Lisbon and Jane exchanged glances but said nothing. Pushing was never the right move with Cho.

Cho looked at Jane. "Abbott said he didn't direct Fischer's actions," question implied.

"I believe that," Jane said.

"Either I take it. Or I'll relocate."

"What do you want to do?" Lisbon asked.

"Depends partly on you," he answered, glancing at each.

Impatient, "Spit it out, Cho. What do you need from us?"

"Your intentions. A commitment."

Jane inhaled and exhaled slowly, then looked levelly at Cho. "You're the smart play. The odds of my getting through five years and finishing Blake are better with you."

Cho looked at Lisbon. She took a deep breath and said, "I'm in. -So long as I get the offer and work with Jane. But I have questions." Cho waited. "Can you trust Abbott? I don't want to find myself–" she looked at Jane, "_ourselves_ in a firefight and backup never arrives. Or in court under trumped up charges."

"Jane, what's your take?" The value of Jane's perspective had been ground home through a decade at the CBI.

Languidly, "I trust Abbott's ambition." Noticing Lisbon's reaction, "No, it's a good thing. Predictable. Abbott is hard-nosed and not above jerking around perps. Didn't like being on the receiving end," he acknowledged. "But he's smart. Wily. Ambitious. Appears to be straight arrow."

Lisbon's spoon dropped with a clatter. "_Appears?"_

Jane leaned forward, elbows on the table, rubbing his forefinger over his bearded chin. With precision, "That is the question, isn't it? –Or, at least one of them. Abbott's been chasing Blake for two years. Rounded up a lot of foot soldiers. But the generals are still out there. Now wouldn't it be sweet for Blake if Abbott was one of them?"

"Cripes, Jane," Cho said, frowning, unpleasantly recalling just how layered and devious Jane's world was which, of course, was why they needed him. "How sure are you?"

"Abbott? Don't know. But he's too important to destroying Blake to _assume_ anything. About Blake's highest levels still at large? Very sure."

Cho sat back in thought._ Two years. Jane's here a day, completely cut off for 40 more, and free two days. He's convinced Blake's just lying low. Brilliant, but all speculation. Paranoid? Or on the money? And he wants us to start a campaign against Blake. Anybody else and I'd say he needs a padded room._ Cho mentally winced. _But dammit, it's Jane._

Cho looked up. "Let's walk through it. We all want Blake finished?" They nodded. "Enough to tackle a – _another_ – major campaign?" He looked pointedly at Jane, who'd spent a quarter of his life getting Red John.

Jane murmured. "''Twas yesterday I bowed so low, Was weak from tears and pain; Today I'm strong; my fears are gone; Today I fight again.'" He looked up. "I won't live looking over my shoulder. No other choice."

When Cho looked at her, Lisbon said, "Finish what we started. After all Blake cost us, there's nothing I'd rather do."

To both, "You can work for me?" To Jane, "Co-exist with the bureaucracy? With Abbott? Also work regular cases?" They nodded again.

"I'll tell Abbott Monday."

**Lisbon and Jane**

Cho, Lisbon and Jane strolled toward the mall.

"If it's okay with you, I'm gonna help Jane shop for clothes."

Running his hand through a mop of unruly curls, "A haircut, too. Do you–" Jane looked at Cho's regulation FBI cut and frowned. "Never mind. I'll take my chances here."

"I'll be in the bookstore," Cho pointed. "Meet here in three hours." Cho walked away.

Lisbon looked at his retreating back, uncomfortable Cho was so blatantly breaking guard protocol.

Jane leaned over and put his hand on her shoulder. Softly, "We've risked far more with and for each other. There is zero chance I'll cause problems for Cho."

She looked at Jane. "I know. It's just–"

He smiled, "-Twenty years as a cop will do that to you. Relax." And she did.

Jane was excited by the crowds, colors, and noise after a month in isolation. When the mall directory revealed no barber shop, Jane shrugged and chose a salon. They had to wait because of heavy Saturday traffic, but Jane amused them both by reading the people passing by. She was relieved he found it entertaining rather than overwhelming, and fondly rolled her eyes at his line of bull as he charmed the all-female salon staff. She called out, "Go, Jane. It's you!" when he was draped with a hot pink cape. Despite her teasing, he'd managed to get a decent haircut and shave from the stylist. Lisbon paid the bill and tipped her well.

Lisbon stood back and surveyed him admiringly. "Hey. Looks good."

Jane grinned in return. "Been ages since I've had a decent trim and shave."

After hesitating a second, she ran her hand along his smooth jaw and pecked him on the cheek. "I could tell."

Amused, "Don't appreciate island chic?"

She snorted, "So _that's_ what you call looking like a beach bum. C'mon. Lots left to do."

A drug store supplied many of the basic toiletries, and then they headed for the best men's store in the mall.

"Lisbon, okay if I run up a big tab on your card? I'll cover it in about a week."

She stopped and turned to face him. "Jane, I know the FBI froze your assets. You'll just–"

"-I have liquid assets."

She said seriously, "Banks have to report transactions of ten-thousand and up. Don't give Abbott any more power over you."

"Shhh. All okay. A friend will deliver a money order in any amount I want. You can use it to pay the bill. No bank involved, impossible to trace." Off on a tangent, "The method's used world over and, yeah, often for illicit activity because it can't be traced."

"Oh."

As they walked further, Jane periodically glanced at her, frowning. "What's wrong? Um, the money's legit, taxes paid and everything," he reassured her.

She took a deep breath. "It's not that." Taking his hand she tugged him over to a bench. "I'm not sure I should bring this up." She looked at him anxiously. "After McAllister, I knew the FBI would freeze your assets. I retrieved your books from the CBI. And suits from your motel room–"

"-Ah. You didn't have to do that, but thank you. I wondered where this suit came from."

"Geez, Jane. I know they're expensive. Couldn't see just leaving them." Her face fell in remembered distress.

Jane hugged her. "I never expected that. Still taking care of me after I left," he said quietly. "–This is a favor. Sweet. Why the long face?"

She took a deep breath. "I've been paying for your Sacramento storage locker. I peeked inside and didn't think you'd want to lose ... that." When she looked Jane's eyes were closed and his face blank, mask in place for the first time.

He finally looked back. Voice thick with emotion, "Teresa, you–" He swallowed, losing his composure. "When I moved to Sacramento I had all the – the personal things moved too. I – I thought I lost all that. It was months after McAllister before I could even think about that." He looked away as tears finally spilled over.

Lisbon handed him tissue from her purse. She got up and said briskly, "I'll get us sodas from that stand."

A few minutes later they continued on their way to the men's store. Jane bought three suits, off-the-rack but still expensive. They would do and he could get hand-tailored or a preferred brand later. After glancing at Lisbon, he smiled knowingly and included the matching vests. The suits Lisbon rescued had been well and heavily worn for over a decade. Though he vaguely recalled several were in decent shape, needing only alterations to the lapels and pants to update them, he was sure that new ones would be needed. He bought a basic supply of underwear and accessories, enough casual clothes for a few weeks, and luggage. He was still rootless, but at least he needn't look homeless anymore.

**The Austin-San Francisco Connection**

Jane jerked the phone away at the ear-splitting squeal of delight. Cho called Rigsby and Van Pelt every other Saturday night when he wasn't on a case. This time Jane had placed the call and surprised Van Pelt.

Jane switched to speaker and set it on the table.

"Can't believe you're back. You're out of detention?"

"Sprung by Lisbon and Cho yesterday."

"Hey, man. Good hearing from you."

"You, too, Rigs. Hey - that 'Jane Fund" must be pretty flush after two years. I'll have to relieve you of the spare cash."

"In your dreams. Ben and Maddie sop up any spare change these days."

"Jane, you're here _permanently_?" Grace interjected.

"Back for good. I missed you – all of you."

Cho finally interjected, "Call me back, okay? I have news, too." Rigsby and Van Pelt knew to call his burner phone using one on their end as well. Having swept the hotel suite for bugs, he knew the call would be private.

"Cho, why the cloak and dagger?" Rigsby asked as soon as Cho answered.

"Abbott offered me team leader."

"Wow! You've earned it, but – out of the blue?"

Cho glanced at Jane. "Fischer self-destructed handling Jane's detention."

Rigsby's voice became serious, "But Abbott? Will it work if he's suspicious?"

"Finally decided I'm not Blake. Either I take this. Or I need to relocate."

Van Pelt all but growled, her opinion of Abbott no higher than it was during the dismantling of the CBI. "Abbott's an SOB."

"Abbott's got Blake. The three of us want in to finish it up."

"Why get into that again?" Rigsby asked plaintively. He was overjoyed to leave the CBI debacle firmly in the past.

Van Pelt caught it first. "'Three of us"? You, Lisbon and Jane?"

"Yeah. If we stir up Blake, you need to be careful too."

Rigsby, puzzled, "Us? There a specific threat?"

"Jane hunch."

"Crap," Rigsby said softly, always ready to take Jane seriously.

"More when we know more. How're things?"

Rigsby was happy to switch topics. "Got that big employer contract, so we'll be busy for months. Ben's learned how to do the backstroke and Maddie even paddles around now."

Van Pelt chimed in. "Good thing that new contract came in _after_ the break-in."

"Break-in?" Jane asked, interest sharpened.

"Nothing much. Probably a teenager. Took our computers but fortunately everything's automatically backed-up. We're out a few grand, most of which insurance will cover."

"Hey, Grace," Lisbon said, toweling her hair as she emerged from her room. "When did this happen?"

"Just after your visit, 'bout a month ago. –So you are definitely going to Austin?"

"Yeah. The boredom in Washington is killing me. Jane negotiated a deal where I have agent status and opportunities. Me. FBI."

"Congratulations, Boss," Rigsby inserted.

"–I'm not your boss."

"Right, Boss."

Van Pelt added, a trifle sourly, "So long as you can stand Abbott."

Lisbon smiled, "I'll be working for Cho. _He_ gets to deal with any Abbott headaches." Then added, "And Jane headaches!"

Van Pelt said, disbelievingly, "Keep telling yourself that. Hey, call me some time."

"Sure, Grace." Lisbon looked around. "I think we're talked out on this end. I'll call you this week when I'm back in Washington."

"Congrats again, Cho. Glad you're back, Jane," Rigsby said.

"–Bye," several voices said simultaneously.

The three went out afterward for dinner. During the course of the evening, Jane found out that Lisbon's house was broken into shortly after she had settled in Washington. Cho was in the midst of explaining that he had lived with a roommate while training at Quantico and was happy _not_ to have any break-in mishaps, when he turned to Jane and frowned.

"You think that's something?

Jane shrugged. "Lot of coincidences."

"That's only the Rigsby's and me," Lisbon said hopefully.

"Except," Cho said slowly, "I stored my stuff rather than move it cross country. Found out my storage locker had been broken into when I moved here." He grimaced and sighed. "They think we have something."

Jane nodded and sipped his tea. "And the game begins."

It was hours later in the hotel suite. Cho had turned in leaving Lisbon and Jane to talk, and they again ended up on the couch. Lisbon's flight left early the next morning and neither wanted the night to end. Jane pulled her closer and kissed her temple. She turned and took his face in both hands.

"So glad you're back, Jane," she murmured. Her kisses emphatically underscored her feelings. Jane enthusiastically responded, deepening their kisses, and they quickly heated to barely contained passion. Lisbon abruptly drew back.

Jane opened his eyes, "Teresa? I – is–"

She took a breath, a small grin reassuring him. "It's fine. It's just a little ... new. The hotel. Cho. I've got a ton of stuff to do in Washington. It–"

"Shhh. Don't."

She sobered. "Don't what?"

"Don't doubt this. The FBI will work out. This is real, and the only place I want to be is with you."

She hung on his words, lips slightly parted, gaze sliding from his eyes to his lips and back. She took a tremulous breath. "It's just a lot."

"It is. But it's been 12 years coming. We know each other, want each other. This isn't just about resuming your career. It's _our_ chance." He kissed her slowly, gently, deeply. "This isn't the time or place to take this further. But it will be. Soon." He rose and pulled her to her feet. "Good night, Teresa." A quick kiss, brief embrace and he turned toward his room.

She stood, uncertain. Softly, "Jane – Patrick. Um, we could sleep in the same bed."

He grinned at her, his expression leaving no doubt about his interest. "Maybe _you_ could, but it wouldn't stay platonic for me. We can wait to do this right. Cho snoring next door isn't it," he added as the faint sounds of their friend drifted from behind his door.

Lisbon took two steps, kissed him quickly and disappeared into her room before her resolve vanished. _Soon!_


	12. Chapter 12 - Setting Things in Motion

**Chapter 12: Setting Things in Motion**

**Lisbon**

Lisbon resolutely boarded the plane for her mid-morning flight, suppressing a pang of regret at the separation. The cop in her admonished, _Suck, it up. It's only till the paperwork is ready._ The woman in her hated being apart even temporarily after two lonely, uncertain years that came on the heels of an intense, dangerous and confusing decade.

She put the flight to good use. By the time it landed, she had a list of the myriad tasks needed to wrap up life in Cannon Falls. She made several calls during the drive from the Olympia airport and arranged to meet a realtor friend that afternoon. She wouldn't actually list her house for sale until she had the FBI offer letter in hand, but her friend was willing to do all the up-front work without the contract so things would be ready to go.

Not until evening did she pause in wonder that she was going to go through with it. Fear crept in through the cracks of her uncertainty. Was she really going to disrupt her life – _again!_ – on the strength of a few days with Jane? Quit her job. Move two‑thousand miles. Start a new job Take on the Blake Association. (Again.) Work with Jane. _Be_ with Jane! Every careful, conservative, skeptical cell in her body trembled that her life would be swept away in an instant. Fortunately a late night call from Jane reassured her, flooding her with love and desire so intense she ached. Sometimes the _sensible_ move was grab the brass ring and run. A survivor, she knew she would always endure. This was her chance to soar. A wild, hopeful courage welled up. Not only _could_ she do this. She would dare anyone to stop her!

On Monday, Moore called to tell Lisbon he had FedX'ed the paperwork to the Austin FBI as expected. _Un_expected was Abbott's sudden trip to follow up a Blake lead. Abbott wouldn't be available to meet till late in the week even if the FBI legal staff finalized the contract and offer letter right away. Whenever it would occur, Lisbon planned to fly in for the signing. If the offer was as agreed and she took the job, she would fax her resignation to the county manager and her real estate contract to her realtor. She could start work at the FBI immediately.

Days were spent readying the PD for the transition. Nights were spent packing, hiring movers, touching base with the not-quite-friends she had made. And talking with Jane. It was always the highlight of the day and the last thing she did before turning in. She decided calls were far superior to living vicariously through the letters he had sent while in exile.

The week passed in a whirlwind of chores, big and small. She gave the county manager a heads up about the impending job offer and her plans to accept. As with her house, she wouldn't actually resign till she had the offer in hand, but she felt better handling the transition responsibly. The PD had vastly improved under her leadership and one officer was capable of becoming the new chief. He would be the acting chief while the board deliberated, though she hoped he would be hired on a permanent basis. The county manager agreed to let her use her vacation days to fulfill the standard two weeks' notice if and when she did resign. Lisbon thrilled to think she would soon be working serious, demanding cases again with part of her old team.

**Cho and Jane**

Cho was wearing out. A Jane unburdened by Red John or insomnia apparently had limitless energy. After Lisbon boarded her flight, Jane asked to check out the more interesting parts of the city. Miles later, he was finally willing to stop for lunch and return to the hotel. After a few hours at the hotel, Jane was again restless, triggering more walking. Cho reflected that two years of swimming and a month plus of exercise in detention left Jane possibly more fit than even he was – at least with respect to endurance.

Sunday set the tone for the rest of the week. Abbott's sudden absence left them at loose ends. Instead of signing the agreement and beginning FBI work, Cho found himself tagging along – ostensibly guarding – a hyperactive Jane. Jane seemed incapable of spending more than a couple of hours at a time in the hotel suite, making Cho wonder whether that was a side effect of the solitary confinement. When not at the hotel, Jane wanted to explore as much of the city as possible, preferably on foot. Curiously, Jane was keenly alert to his surroundings and passers-by. Jane also made a point of sitting at a far corner facing the entrance whenever they ate in a restaurant. That triggered Cho's own wariness and also concern that the solitary confinement had more of an impact than he first thought.

Footsore and uninterested in hoofing it around more of the city, Cho detoured to the FBI building and fetched a dozen cold case files. He needed to redirect Jane's energy before he throttled the blond pain in the ass. They compromised. He and Jane would spend mornings working on files, wander around the city during the afternoon, and be back at the hotel after dinner. If, as was often the case, reading and tv weren't enough to fill the evening, Jane had an inexhaustible store of entertaining ways to pass time.

**Cho and Jane, Thursday**

Cho and Jane finished studying files for the morning.

"Now what?"

"Cobbler," Jane answered, holding up a plastic bag containing his old brown shoes. His shoes were much worse for the wear from the saltwater, sand, dust, and sometimes mud on the island. "Plenty of time before Lisbon's flight gets in."

"Surprised you don't sleep with the damned things."

Jane ignored that. "I can get the leather uppers replaced before I start work." Jane was dressed in jeans, a shirt, and athletic shoes - clothes he had bought with Lisbon the previous Saturday.

"Haven't you had them re-soled a bunch of times?"

"Sure."

Cho chuckled. "New soles, new uppers. Different shoes."

Jane turned and looked at him seriously. "No! The cobbler uses these as the pattern and they are the same. You've just never learned to appreciate comfortable shoes."

He snorted. "Except for the 25 mile marches in Afghanistan."

Jane's eyebrows rose. "Try taking tickets or manning a food stand for 12 or 15 hours. Standing in one place is worse."

Cho shook his head. "You keep telling yourself that." He sighed. "How about lunch afterward?"

Jane dropped off his shoes and they found a restaurant nearby. It was a touristy area lined with small shops that sold anything anyone might want. They parked and cut through to the next block using a narrow brick pedestrian walkway that was formerly an alley.

"Jane."

"Hmm?" His blond friend looked up from lunch.

"Tell me about the island. And why you came back."

Jane examined Cho's expression for clues to the unprecedented personal questions. "Why?"

"Curious."

Jane smiled. "Why?"

"Want more insight into what I'm taking on."

The smile became a full blown grin. "You're worried I'm replacing one obsession with another. And that solitary confinement warped me more than you want to handle." He leaned back with a satisfied smirk.

"About the island?" Cho repeated, long used to Jane's deflections.

Jane sipped his soda and scanned the restaurant before replying. Softly, "Red John was dead. No need to spend more time on how to ... deal with him." He swallowed, "I had nothing _but_ time to think about everything I'd put off for a decade." The server delivered their food, providing a welcome interruption. After a few bites, he grimaced and continued. "I was a mess. Every day I walked or swam till I was tired enough to sleep. It was that way for months. Also took a while to quit wondering how the team was doing. –I read about it when tourists left newspapers." He shook his head in regret. "I shouldn't have left such a mess for–"

"–McAllister and Blake had to be brought down," Cho interrupted. "If you stayed Blake would have killed you." Quietly, "No one blames you."

Jane sipped more soda to overcome the lump in his throat. "Eventually, I didn't think about it unless I wanted to."

"What about the people there?"

"Nice people. Still strangers. I liked one kid who worked - _works_ - for the hotel and speaks English. Smart. Lots of initiative." He smiled, "Half dozen schemes before breakfast."

Cho grunted. "Another you."

Jane tipped his head. "Didn't speak Spanish well enough for other connections."

Cho looked at him hard. "Could have picked it up in two years."

"Didn't."

"Didn't want to?"

Jane shrugged. "Maybe."

"Why'd you come back?"

"Nothing there for me."

"And here?"

Softly. "Anyone I care about is here."

"And Blake?"

Jane frowned. "Blake is the debris I have to clear away to have a life." He looked up. "That's the only reason I care."

After a moment, "Okay."

Jane turned to finishing his meal.

"And the solitary confinement?"

"What do you want me to say, Cho?"

"You're acting paranoid."

"Blake's still out there."

"That's all?"

"Yeah."

They paid and left. A few feet into the pedestrian cut-through Jane told Cho to go ahead while he doubled back to the drugstore on the corner to buy new laces for his soon-to-be spiffed up shoes. A few minutes later Jane exited and started down the walkway again.

Jane glanced back as an SUV noisily jumped the curb and accelerated toward him.

Jane ran, knowing he couldn't beat a speeding car. No place to hide. Locked store doors. Shallow doorways.

Jane sprinted. He launched up from a decorative wooden planter. Desperate fingers gripped the second story window sill. He pulled himself as high as he could. The SUV roof cleared his bent knees by inches as it crashed through the planters below.

Jane's grip slipped and he dropped five feet, stumbling on the splintered wood. He fell forward, temple slamming into the brick walk.

Cho turned back at the sound of squealing tires. He leaped sideways, nearly run over by the speeding SUV. Dark glass hid the driver. Mud hid the license plate. He pulled his piece, but dared not fire lest it was just an accident.

Chest heaving, he pivoted back to the alley. Once sure the SUV was gone, he ran to his downed friend. Dropping to his knees, he checked for pulse, relieved not to see any blood. Jane groaned and moved to rise.

"Stay still. You were hit by a car!"

Jane held his head with a shaky hand. "Not hit," he mumbled, "Fell." This time Cho shoved aside the splintered wood and helped him turn over and sit up. Jane's face sported bruises and scrapes. Cho looked but saw no blood in his hair.

"Can you walk? –Never mind. I'll call an ambulance."

"No ambulance! I'll be okay."

Cho made his decision after another look at his dazed friend. "Okay, but you're going to the ER. C'mon." Cho helped Jane up. Jane painfully limped to the FBI SUV with Cho's help.

**Jane, Cho and Lisbon**

"Thank you," Lisbon told the ER clerk as she was directed to emergency treatment bay #3. Mouth dry from nerves, she tried twice before she could speak.

"Cho? Jane?"

"In here, Lisbon," Cho called quietly.

She slipped through the privacy curtain to find Jane seated on the hospital bed with his legs dangling off the side. Cho sat alongside in a plastic chair. Jane's chest was bare except for scattered pads of gauze held on with tape. Impressive bruises bloomed blue and purple in a half dozen places. She blinked, setting aside momentary embarrassment as his partial undress. She mentally suppressed notice that, even if too thin, Jane was surprisingly ripped.

She took a deep breath. "Are you all right? What happened?" She set down her carry-on from the flight. The rest of her clothing would arrive at Cho's apartment within a few days.

Jane gave her a crooked grin. "Fine. Like old times at the CBI."

"He was almost run over. Waiting for x-rays to rule out concussion."

She searched Jane's face, relieved to see that he seemed okay. "Almost run over? Accident?"

"Intentional."

Cho bluntly filled her in. "An SUV cut through a pedestrian walkway to run him down. Not an accident."

"Who? Why?"

Jane gently rubbed the sore side of his head. "Blake, I suspect."

"God, that didn't take long." She looked stricken at how fast danger from Blake had materialized.

"Just been waiting for their opportunity," Jane said, matter of fact.

Cho looked at him sharply. Voice louder than intended, "Dammit, Jane! You expected this!" realizing the source of Jane's apparent paranoia.

Looking at Jane, Lisbon could read the truth of that. Eyes flashing, "You expected an attack and didn't tell Cho? What the hell, Jane. I should–"

A nurse swept aside the curtain. "Both of you, leave. I won't have you harassing a patient."

"But–" objected Lisbon.

"_Now_, or I call Security."

Jane grinned despite his headache.

Cho got up to leave. Lisbon hissed, "Jackass!" as she left.

Jane's voice carried as they left, "Now it's really like old times."

Jane was discharged a half hour later after a concussion was ruled out. He found Cho and Lisbon in the waiting area. By then they had calmed down. By then he managed to hide his amusement at the nurse booting them to the waiting room.

**Cho, Lisbon and Jane, Hotel**

Cho, Lisbon and Jane rode to the hotel in near silence. Lisbon brushed Jane away from carrying her bag and glared at Cho to squelch any similar impulse as they went inside.

"Tea?" Jane asked hopefully, looking at the hotel restaurant.

"Talk first. We'll get room service," Cho responded brusquely.

Lisbon dropped her bag off in the vacant bedroom. Cho ordered room service. Jane sat on the couch and propped up his left leg to relieve the strain on his twisted knee. Lisbon and Cho took chairs on opposite sides of the sofa table. He looked at them apprehensively, hoping their ire had blown over.

Lisbon let Cho take lead. "Jane, time to talk."

Jane remained silent.

"You _expected_ Blake to attack. You didn't warn me. Dangerous. And stupid."

"I didn't _know_ for sure."

Despite her determination to let Cho have his say first, Lisbon couldn't help interjecting, "Failing to warn Cho put him in danger as well as you. What the hell were you thinking?"

Jane replied in low key, soothing tones, "I _didn't_ know for sure and didn't want to trigger a search for something that might not exist. –And Cho picked up on my caution, so he was forewarned after a–"

"Manipulating as well?" Uncharacteristically, Cho got up and paced, too irritated to sit still. "Abbott's been out of town and I haven't given him my answer." He towered over Jane, fists on his hips and rigid with anger. "If I'm going to take Blake on – take _you_ on, we need to get something straight. You're done with Red John. No more passes for being crazed by that bastard. It's going to be a real team or I want no part of you."

Jane swallowed and nodded tightly.

"Three rules. You don't lie to me. You don't hide things. And you make your own apologies for pissing people off."

Jane took a deep breath, anger rising in reaction. "Not that simple."

"Why?"

"What's a lie? What's hiding? –I may consider a dozen possibilities without knowing any will pan out."

Cho stepped back and exhaled slowly. "Anything you're certain enough to act on, you tell me. You can't do that, say it now and save me the trouble."

Jane swallowed. Grudgingly. "I can live with that. But I'll be damned if I'm going to apologize for saying or doing what I need to solve a case."

Cho looked at him steadily as the silence lengthened. "I'll handle apologies for actions _directly_ necessary to solve the case. If you mess with anyone for your amusement, you do your own apologies."

Mockingly, "I can feel the love." Serious again. "Okay."

Cho sat down and sipped his coffee, anger gradually subsiding. Lisbon sat mute for minutes. Jane gave her an easy smile, trying to defuse and downplay the situation. Lisbon and Cho both knew him too well to be taken in.

Finally, "Jane, I want nothing more than to work with you. _Be_ with you. But it has to be a real partnership or none at all."

Softly, "Meaning?"

She didn't answer directly. "Do you care if I take risks, unnecessarily put myself in danger? Do you expect me to be careful with my life - partly because that's being careful _for_ you?"

He swallowed. "Of course."

"Then I claim the same right. I need everything Cho said and more. You include me in your thinking and plans or I'll stay in Washington. I'll be damned if I'm gonna move two‑thousand miles and upset my whole life only for you to get yourself killed by taking stupid risks because of ego, or showing off, or whatever the hell else is in your head. Promise me now or forget it." She licked her lips, determined not to give in. Without his promise, this was something she couldn't live with, _wouldn't_ live with. Not now. Not when he was no longer driven by his family's slaughter and endlessly tormented by a twisted psychopath.

Jane reached for his tea, looking down. "I promise." It was almost too soft to hear.

She looked at him. "Say it again."

Louder. "I promise. And I want you to be careful with your life, too. That – that's why I came back, Lisbon."

After another few awkward minutes, Cho said, "How about dinner now? You can brief us on _all_ your thinking about Blake."


	13. Chapter 13 - Joining the FBI

**Chapter 13: Joining the FBI**

**Cho, Libon and Jane**

Dinner was good and all three appreciated having the tension behind them. As promised, Cho pressed Jane on his Blake thinking.

Pausing with a full fork, Lisbon asked, "You _don't_ think the FBI wanted you for solving cases. Why?"

Jane sipped his tea, blissful as the warmth washed through him and eased bruises and stiffening muscles from his near fatal encounter. Returning to the conversation, "I realized it in detention. Abbott doesn't want any part of me. Why would the FBI brass? I'm a lowly con man consultant from a corrupted state bureau."

Cho answered, "Red John. Blake. Our hundred percent close rate."

Jane snorted. "The one FBI constant is arrogance." He ignored it as Lisbon choked and sputtered on a mouthful of coffee. "The FBI only sees murderer and possible Blake members."

"So?" Cho prompted.

"Had to be some other reason. Couldn't be touched in Venezuela, and not just because there's no extradition treaty. Strangers stood out in the small village."

Lisbon murmured, eyebrow raised, "All about you, Jane? Isn't that a stretch?"

He smiled instead of taking umbrage. "Not about me. Remember all those break-ins? Blake ruled out the easy possibilities first. I'm their last target."

Cho again. "For what?"

"Bertram's thumb drive." Jane leaned forward, caught up in the logic of his theory. "Finished with low level Blake, Abbott will have time to go after the upper levels. They're nervous. Bertram was nothing if not sneaky and self-serving. He'd have as many names and as much dirt as he could amass over the years."

"Okay, they want the drive. Why kill you?"

"It hasn't surfaced in two years. I'm their last suspect. Kill me and it stays 'lost.'"

"The FBI offer lures you out of Venezuela. But then detention protects you," Cho said slowly.

"Until I got out."

"Why now? Why not a month from now, a year?" Lisbon asked.

"What do cops do when one of their own is killed?"

"Move heaven and earth to get the perp," she replied.

"I'm not part of the fold till I sign that agreement. That's how I knew it'd be now. Why it had to look like an accident. No need to look further. End of story."

Cho said, "So you put yourself out there as bait." It wasn't a question. Lisbon shuddered.

Jane shrugged diffidently. "I was right. Proved my theory."

Lisbon glared angrily. "You're a damn fool. What if you were wrong? A bullet to the head would keep the drive hidden, too."

"But prompt a deeper investigation."

"Not going to happen again, Jane. -Where is it?"

"Someplace safe." Cho just looked at him, irritation battling with disapproval.

Jane closed his eyes, then opened them and motioned them closer. In a near whisper, "Pete sealed it in a waterproof case and had it sewn into Daisy's hide."

"–Daisy?" Cho said, confused. Lisbon grimaced, faintly repulsed.

Jane rolled his eyes. "Daisy the elephant gives rides at the carnival. Pete said it wouldn't hurt her. Who would ever guess?"

Lisbon just shook her head.

"How do we go after Blake?" Cho asked.

"Get Grace to decrypt the drive while we figure out if Abbott is clean. If he is, see if he has the guts to go after high levels."

"In the FBI?"

Jane raised his eyebrows, amused. "Reede Smith was Blake."

"Low level," Cho qualified.

"Meaning less useful. McAllister would find weakness and recruit as high as he could. At other organizations, too. –The FBI brass forced Abbot to fetch me. They must be involved."

Cho rested his forehead on his hand, elbow propped on the table. If Jane was right, this would be neither easy nor quick. And it would hinge on the SOB who, till last week, thought _he_ was Blake. He straightened his shoulders and looked up. "Okay. What's first?"

**Starting at the FBI**

At one on Friday, Cho finally gave Abbott his answer. Immediately afterward, Abbott met with Jane and Lisbon to sign the agreement and offer letter. Moore was present and Cho attended at Abbott's request. Other than a few minor changes in language, Moore confirmed that the documents conformed to the deal they had struck and the meeting was over in a half hour. Abbott eyed Jane's bruises and scrapes curiously, but accepted Jane's explanation of nearly being run over by a car without comment.

Jane's assets would remain frozen pending six months of satisfactory performance under the agreement. Abbott told them to work with Lira, who would shepherd them through the new hire process. Afterward Jane and Lisbon accompanied Moore outside.

Lisbon extended her hand. "A pleasure Mr. Moore."

"All mine. Unless there's something more–" he hesitated a moment, but neither spoke up, "a bill for any charges above the retainer will be sent care of the Austin FBI."

"That's fine. I–"

Jane interrupted, "-_We_ can't thank you enough."

Moore looked Jane over shrewdly then included both when he spoke. "Let me know if you – either of you – ever decide to go into private investigations. I would be interested in your services."

Lisbon frowned. "You haven't seen our work." Jane just smiled.

"I've seen enough. Well, if that's all, I have a plane to catch. Thank you for the opportunity to serve."

They watched a moment as Moore drove away.

"Where'd you find him? He's good."

She glanced at him, surprised at any favorable reaction to a lawyer. "Hightower."

Jane's smile widened. "What's Madeline up to these days?"

"Just appointed director of the new California Criminal Investigative Bureau." Jane nodded appreciatively. "I called in some of your chits to get her help."

"Good move."

They turned and reentered the FBI building.

**Abbott and Cho**

Abbott looked up in surprise as Cho followed him out of the meeting.

"Cho?"

"Jane and Lisbon are ready to start work next week. I assume Lira will help with the team leader set-up. What do I do about an IT analyst?"

Abbott answered while pulling files from his desk drawer for his next meeting, "Human Resources will give you a list of the unassigned analysts. See who you want." He set the files on the corner of his desk. "Appears your team will hit the ground running. Good. I'll fold your team into rotation as new cases come up. Probably next week."

"Yes, Sir."

Abbott looked up. "Anything more?"

Cho placed a half-dozen files on Abbott's desk. "Jane and I read through a dozen cold case files. Good leads on six."

Abbott sat back. His eyes glittered and he tipped his head. "Good initiative. Pick one to follow up. I'll assign the rest to other teams." Cho chose the highest profile one. Abbott glanced at the names on that file and let his lips stretch in a small smile. "Ambitious. I'll be out of town on Blake next week. Don't make a mess of this," he said, nodding at the file in Cho's hand.

Cho nodded and left to get the list of available IT analysts from HR. Lisbon and Jane were settling in when he got to the bullpen.

"Cho. Okay if I sit here?" she asked. He nodded.

"Told you, Lisbon. Cho will be back here so he can keep an eye on everyone, right?" Jane looked at Cho, who nodded as he transferred things from a desk in the middle of the bullpen to one next to a wall so that the room was in front of him. Jane continued, "And you're going to get me a couch." Jane winced looking around. "Everything's cold and hard around here. Terrible for thinking."

"You'll get your couch, Jane." It was quitting time. "Go find something to drive and someplace to live, both of you. -We're tacking the Avilard case Monday first thing." Lisbon glanced at Jane, whose return glance promised to fill her in on the cold case they'd be working.

Lisbon started to move toward the elevators, but Jane hung back. "I want to vet the analysts with you."

Cho looked steadily at him. "You'll both talk to them. I decide." Lisbon dragged Jane off by his sleeve lest he get on the wrong side of Cho. Cho looked at their retreating forms and allowed himself a ghost of a smile. _Hit the ground running all right._ His professional – and personal – life had just gotten ten times more interesting and rewarding. He ignored the likely increase in danger.

**Lisbon and Jane**

Lisbon and Jane walked away from rental office number seven. HR had given them a list of approved "corporate" apartment complexes. The FBI would pay for up to three months at a furnished, fully equipped apartment till they each made permanent living arrangements.

"Jane, what happened to that trailer–"

"_–Airstream_."

"–Airstream in your terms?"

"Still there. I have three months to find and buy one at their expense. Or, I asked HR, and I can make other arrangements so long as the money is the same."

She grumbled, "Can't believe you got them to buy you a home!"

Jane sighed, slightly annoyed. "They wouldn't have to if they released my assets. I had a hard enough with my Malibu house thanks to the FBI."

She stopped walking and put her arm on his. "Oh! –But it's okay? I mean, you didn't lose it, did you?"

Eyes closed, he leaned his head back and let the warmth of the sun soak in. "I paid the taxes through a third party so government didn't confiscate and sell it." He turned to her and fished in a vest pocket. "Here," he said, handing her an envelope. "Reimbursement for all those purchases."

She looked inside. "Jane! This is way more than you charged."

He grinned, "So buy me lunch."

She tucked the money order into her purse and decided to let it slide for the moment. "About time. We've toured seven places and you don't like anything."

"Not so," he protested mildly. "It's just that security has to be good as well as it being nice."

One lunch and two more complexes later, they – Jane – finally found apartments acceptable to him. The rental agent left them alone in the apartment for a few minutes while she took a call.

Jane looked around. Attractive, up-scale, impersonal. But it was defensible and two apartments were available side-by-side.

"Okay with you, Lisbon?"

"It's fine, Jane. The last _four_ complexes were fine."

Hesitantly, "You're all right with my living next door?" After a moment he added, "I don't want it to be awkward for you at the FBI. If – if you hate the idea, I could go with a nearby complex instead."

She sank down on the couch and nodded for him to do the same. "It would be a little ... soon to live together, but this is good. If we're gonna tackle Blake, I want you as close as possible."

He looked at her curiously. "You've always hated the bias against female cops, hated the rumors about us in the CBI."

She looked away, then back. "My work and record speak for themselves. I can't be bothered with what 'people' think. I'm not giving an inch on our safety to bow to gossip, Jane."

He relaxed and kissed her on the cheek. "Good." When she returned, they told the realtor they wanted the apartments.

Lisbon and Jane stayed at the hotel Friday night before taking possession of their apartments on Saturday. The rest of the weekend was – wonderful. They moved clothes and toiletries from the hotel to their new apartments. Although the apartments were fully furnished and equipped, they still needed groceries and supplies. Jane thoroughly enjoyed the mundane chores – shopping, laundry, cooking. Lisbon bought a few creature comforts to make up for all the things left in storage in Washington. She decided there was little point in moving her things to Austin until, eventually, she rented or bought a house.

They spent some time apart, but tended to go out together. Lisbon was determined not to let beautiful weather, excitement of working for the FBI, and the melting warmth of Jane's presence lull her. She was still horrified at the near-fatal attack. Despite Jane's _arrogant?_ confidence that Blake would lie low now that he worked for the FBI, she had no intention of testing it out. And, they had a decade plus two long, sad years to make up for.

The movie was good. Jane shepherded Lisbon out of the theater with his hand on the small of her back.

"Chinese? Thai? Tex-Mex?"

"Take out?" He nodded. She looked at him, eyes narrowed. "And how do you know about restaurants around here?"

Smiling, "Walked all around the city last week."

They finally went with Szechuan and randomly chose her apartment for eating. Lisbon forcibly set aside the thought that Jane's knowledge of Austin was courtesy of deliberately making himself a visible – and vulnerable – target.

Lisbon dished out the food while Jane took sodas from the refrigerator, tea kettle and tea not yet available in her apartment. With a glance, they mutually agreed to eat in the living room. Before sitting down, Lisbon locked the door, armed the security system, and put one gun next to the couch and a second on the bedroom night stand.

Returning, she dealt with his easy grin. "Don't. No denial. No making light of it. You take it seriously till we're done with Blake." She glared till he dropped the grin, swallowed and looked away.

"Okay."

Lisbon promptly plopped down on the couch next to him and attacked the food. After beating back imminent starvation, she set aside her plate, leaned back and studied him.

"Jane?"

"Mmm?"

"I don't– Um, you're ... different."

He glanced over, amusement and curiosity plain in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"This – this is so _normal_ it's surreal. We're about to take on the leaders of a nationwide corrupt conspiracy. Shouldn't we, you know, be more _serious_?"

Jane set his plate on the sofa table, then pulled her closer and put his arm around her shoulders. He sighed, closed his eyes, and leaned his head back against the couch back. Quietly, "Teresa, I've paid my dues. I devoted ten years to finding and," his breathing hitched, "killing Red John. It took two more years to come to terms with my role in my family's slaughter." She opened her mouth to argue against his misplaced sense of responsibility, but thought better and remained silent. "If I could change that night, god knows I would. Since I can't, I'm determined to move on – with you, if you'll have me. I want nothing more than to – to-" he swallowed with difficulty, "live a normal life with as much happiness as I'm capable of. The _only _reason I'm going after Blake is because they won't let me, let _us_ alone." He sat straighter and looked at her directly. "I won't waste another year or month or day waiting for some perfect time to live."

He tipped his head down while cradling her face in his hands. He kissed her gently, tongue tracing her lips, then meeting and caressing hers as her lips parted. Emerald eyes dark with desire met ocean green eyes equally dark. Kisses heated and adored all skin that could be reached. Fingers undid buttons and slid clothing off shoulders, allowing warm skin to touch warm skin, as both were consumed with the need to be close, closer. The imperative of breathing finally gave pause. Without speaking they rose and made their way to the bedroom, hands entwined. Crisp sheets welcomed them as they fulfilled unspoken promises over a decade in the making. Sweet and gentle gave way to urgent passion. Bodies cooled only to be enticed to repeated joinings until sleep finally claimed them.

They were home.


	14. Chapter 14 - Starting Work

**Chapter 14: Starting Work**

***** M rated material noted below.*****

**Lisbon and Jane**

Force of habit woke Lisbon early, a peaceful dawning of awareness. At last the man she wanted for years was with her - warm, present, _hers_. Despite quitting her job, moving thousands of miles, resetting her life completely, she was happier and more optimistic than she could remember.

She carefully shimmied from under his sleeping embrace to use the bathroom and brush her teeth. Mini-blind slats striped Jane with gold and dark. Sunlight glinted off mussed curls and highlighted cheekbones, strong jaw, and luxurious eyelashes. She carefully slid back into bed, gently nestling against his side. He sighed in pleasure, his hand unconsciously brushing her bare shoulder.

Her fingers delicately caressed his face, skirting the fading bruises and scrapes. She stretched up and gently kissed his cheek, grinning at the prickly beard stubble. Her hand cupped his cheek then glided down his neck to trace the broad planes of his chest, the muscled flat of his stomach. Jane shifted contentedly and an easy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, still without waking. She ghosted fingertips over his chest, taking care to avoid the bruises and healing cuts. Love mingled with fierce protectiveness washed over her. She _would_ protect him, in spite of his intrinsic drive to prevail regardless of danger.

Lisbon's glance ran over the familiar, beloved face etched by sadness but, newly, by happiness too. Unbidden memories welled up. Devastated Jane appearing at the CBI. That same man mesmerizing, commanding and irresistibly handsome a scant week later. Mocking the pompous. Catching raindrops on his tongue. White and terrifyingly still - not breathing. Soaking up sunshine. Performing in a tuxedo. Raking in chips. Pinning her with his gaze. Holding a baby. Tricking Rigsby. Smiling - some fake, some genuine, but the best for her alone. And talking. Arguing, teasing, charming, challenging, lecturing, soothing. This infuriating, interesting, brilliant, disruptive, magnificent man was hers at last.

Sheer overwhelming happiness called forth a few tears. Jane looked at her with sleepy eyes and pulled her closer.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. -Finally, everything is right."

His answering smile was radiant. "Yes it is, my dear. Finally." Jane turned to face her, hand cradling her back as he pulled her into a kiss. He murmured, "I missed you so much."

"'Strange and sad'?" she quoted from his last letter.

"Unbearably so. Couldn't be otherwise with you thousands of miles away." She buried her face against his shoulder. "And you, Teresa? How was it ... after?"

She breathed, "Bad." He hugged her closer and waited patiently. "Everything gone in an instant. You. The team. The CBI. Suspected of being Blake, blackballed by Abbott." She gazed upward, damp eyes just visible through lashes. "Minelli had to help me land a county sheriff's job." Another pause. "The worst was not knowing if I'd ever see you again."

He sprinkled kisses over her face, neck. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help."

She frowned, expression intense. "I was glad you were away from that. Blake killed several LEO's in Abbott's round up."

He whispered, eyes closed, "Then I'm glad you and the team were out of it, too."

"And now we're taking on Blake again. What happens after?"

Jane tipped his head. He thought a moment then said simply, "I don't know. Whatever happens will be fine so long as we're together."

***** Start of M-rated *****

They turned to more urgent needs. One hand caressed her smooth skin as the other tangled in silky hair, holding her close as their kisses deepened. Tongues dueled then disengaged. He found exquisitely sensitive points on her face and neck. His tongue traced the delicate ridges of her ear, triggering a delicious shiver. Jane kissed his way down and buried his face between her breasts and breathed in her scent. He raised his head, lips again capturing hers as graceful fingers gently kneaded her breasts. The riches of her body laid before him, his mouth returned to her breasts. He sucked one nipple erect as he thumbed the other, then reversed, adoring each equally.

She buried both hands in his hair, holding him close, controlling and deepening their kisses. As his kisses moved south, her hands ghosted over his back, then around to his chest. Fingers brushed his nipples hard and stroked, taking care to avoid cuts and bruises. She frowned as her hands skated over the corrugation of ribs, angry anew at the abuse.

"It's okay," he said between kisses. "All over."

"Too thin. Hate why."

"I'll gain it back. -Unless you work it off me," he leered.

She scooted closer, hand drifting down and wrapping fingers around his rigid flesh. "Both. Lots of both."

His reply was lost to kissing. He only partly suppressed bucking in pleasure from her attentions. He squeezed well muscled cheeks before brushing her core from the rear. Finding her hot and wet, he shifted away enough to slide his hand between them.

Higher brain functions began to short out. "Ah - stop, stop. Can't hold out with you doing that."

"Your pleasure is mine," she whispered, breath tickling, but reluctantly released him with a fond final stroke. Her thumb ran over too-sharp pelvic bones and he wriggled and chuckled, unexpectedly ticklish.

"C'mon, Jane," she said, breathless, "Want you _now_."

He flipped her on her back and she splayed her legs, core deliciously slick and hot and engorged by arousal. He centered himself between her legs and guided himself to her entrance. She gasped in pleasure as a smooth, firm thrust filled her. They quickly found their rhythm and her hips lifted to welcome each stroke. Jane bit his lower lip to distract himself, hold back. Finally she tightened and broke around him mewling in pleasure. Her contractions gripped him, tipping him over the edge. An instant later he shuddered in ecstasy and release.

***** End of M-rated *****

Jane rolled to the side and dozed. Lisbon enjoyed the boneless contentment of being well-loved and perfectly satisfied. Some minutes later, she roused herself to go clean up. She stopped dead as she returned. It gleamed in the sunlight, resting innocently next to her Glock. She huffed in utter surprise then shrugged a little and climbed back in bed. She would talk to him when he woke. Even after his two-year absence, she wouldn't deliberately wake him when she had so long pitied his years of insomnia. She glanced at it again in wonder. _Jane _has _moved forward since Red John._ It was going to be a good day.

**The FBI**

The first week was strained. Not knowing the reason for Fischer's fall from Abbott's good graces, Cho reaped a measure of resentment from the agents who knew Fischer - which was all of them. Cho ignored that and settled into his new role. He juggled IT analyst interviews with working the Avilard cold case. Cho, Lisbon and Jane spent an hour each morning for an interview before heading out to reexamine the crime scene and question people relevant to Avilard.

Lisbon and Jane had each other. Their determination to eventually work the Blake case largely insulated them from new job anxiety. So long as they could advance their agenda, they didn't much _care_ about fitting in, doing well, being accepted. Lisbon's desire to be respected by her peers had suffered a serious blow not only from the FBI's reflexive assumption that the SCU was connected to the Blake Association, but also from the bitter discovery that so many CBI "peers" had, in fact, been dirty. Jane's work life markedly improved once his couch arrived, though sleeping on the job was widely resented once the sheer disbelief wore off. As expected, rumors about Jane's "number one demand" entertained the entire building. Lisbon couldn't help but bristle at the knee-jerk conclusion that they were unqualified interlopers.

They solved Avilard by Thursday.

**IT Analyst**

On Friday morning, Cho and Lisbon rose from the conference table and greeted the final IT analyst they would interview.

"Have a seat, Agent Wylie."

"Thank you, Agent Ch-"

"–Just Cho. This is Agent Lisbon–"

"–Call me Lisbon."

Cho continued, "You applied for the IT analyst position to fill out my team," Cho began and then Jane strolled in with a cup and saucer in his left hand. _Fifth interview. Fifth time he's late. Why?_

Jane extended his right hand. "Patrick Jane." His smile broadened as Wylie's eyes got round and his pale complexion faded to white. "I see you helped track me down in South America. Small world." Jane seated himself and leaned back comfortably.

Regrouping, Wylie closed his mouth and sat straighter. "Uh, um, yeah that's right."

_That's why._ Cho took lead again, "Why do you want to work on my team?"

Wylie tore his gaze away from Jane. "More interesting to work cases start to finish."

Skimming his personnel folder, "You graduated top of your class in IT and analysis. You've been an agent two years. Convince me you're my best choice."

Wylie shook his head clear and focused on Cho. "I _was_ the best in my class – best in the last four classes, actually, based on Quantico statistics. I've made solid contributions to every case I've worked since posted here. Two commendations from Agent Abbott. I – I tend to have a different take on things. That gives the teams I've worked with more ways to solve the case."

Lisbon interjected, "How do you reconcile FBI protocols with that 'different take'?"

His 'deer in the headlights' look was tempered by stubborn determination. "Except for legal requirements like giving Miranda Rights, The FBI protocols are intended to be helpful. They're no substitute for thinking and logic. If I think I've got something, I bring it up to the lead agent."

Cho took over, "You imply the other analysts don't compare as well. Yet you're the least experienced of the five."

"Yes, Sir. I'll get more experience with time. But experience alone won't give you the ability to think well. Or the confidence to stand up for a good idea."

Lisbon again, "How flexible are you? Learn new things, new skills, different ways of doing things."

Wylie's eyes shown. "Very. I'm always interesting in learning, in becoming more capable."

Cho. "What gives you the most satisfaction in your work?"

"Getting the answer, figuring it out."

"Analysts don't have the highest profile in the FBI. How's that strike you?"

"Sure official recognition's good. But having my team's respect is better."

"How do you spend your spare time?"

He shrugged. "Well, when I've run out of fu- uh,_ interesting_ things to do here, I do a lot of computer work at home. Also, gaming." Defensively, "Computer gaming's often at the cutting edge of technology. It's a good way to see what's made it out to mass markets that may be used for crime."

Jane languidly inserted a question into the quiet. "How did you find me?"

Startled, Wylie froze.

"We're all FBI here. Answer the question," Cho demanded.

Wylie poured water from the carafe and gulped down a half glass. Taking a deep breath, "The FBI knew Chief Lisbon was getting letters from you–"

"How?" Lisbon interrupted.

Wylie hunched his shoulders a little in embarrassment. "Agent Abbott had you under surveillance. That agent reported when you got a letter."

"How did he know?" she asked again, frowning.

Wylie looked away. "Your station officer, Henry Kardin, kind of, well, chatted with him. You were always in a good mood when you got a letter."

Lisbon severely controlled her anger. "The FBI searched my house for letters?"

"Yes."

Jane interjected again, "So how were the letters tracked back to me? They didn't have postmarks."

Wylie looked up at the ceiling, huffed a little and gave it up. _Have to answer even if that kills any chance of getting the job._ "The FBI investigated everything it could about you. You, uh, you didn't keep in touch with your in-laws or any friends from before your family's murder. We verified your SCU team wasn't getting them. That left people from your earlier life. You only had contact with people from the carnival."

"There are hundreds connected to the carnival." Jane tilted his head, curiosity burning bright in his eyes.

"Yeah, there are. We had the Cannon Falls post office divert Chief Lisbon's mail and your letters weren't being delivered that way." He spread his hands. "All that's left is in-person delivery. I correlated fill-ups on anyone at the carnival with gas charge cards. Thought that was a bust till I looked for fill-ups by every adult in a family. Turned out there was a perfect correlation with Pete Barsocky and his family members." He cleared his throat. "We intercepted one of your letters to Barsocky from Venezuela." He sighed then lifted his gaze from the conference table to Jane. Amazingly, Jane was smiling broadly.

"Very clever, Wylie. And that's how you found me two months ago?"

Wylie cleared his throat again. "Uh, actually it was about a year ago." Jane sat straighter in obvious surprise.

Cho looked at Wylie. "You also investigated me?"

Reluctantly. "Yes."

"And you want to work for this team. Why?"

Faintly, "Because you're interesting. And effective. You found Red John," his eyes flicked to Jane then skittered away, "Exposed the Blake Association. And solved every case for ten years. I – I figure I could learn. –Except, I guess you wouldn't want me working with you now."

Cho let it hang a moment. "I'll decide by Monday." He nodded. "Dismissed."

Resigned, Wylie stood. "Thank you for the opportunity to interview, Sir."

"–Cho," he corrected without looking up as he wrote.

Wylie left. Jane pulled his chair closer to the table. Cho looked around. "Who do you think we should hire?"

"Either Johnson or Wylie."

"Jane?"

"Wylie."

Cho frowned. "Why?"

"Smart. Driven to solve the problem, find the answer. Flexible, creative. Tracking gas purchases was good work."

Warming to Jane's point of view, Lisbon added, "And I can't imagine Abbott hands out commendations like candy."

They gathered their things. Jane rose, "Hire him, Cho. He'll get along with us. Plus, we can use reverse engineering." Jane exited first.

Lisbon paused when Cho put his hand on her arm. "Reverse engineering?"

She took a breath. "Not sure. –Maybe Jane means using Wylie to figure out who was calling the shots in getting Jane out of Venezuela."

Cho nodded. "Probably."

"So who you gonna hire?"

"Decide by Monday."

Then Abel Schneiderman happened.


	15. Chapter 15 - Abel Schneiderman

**Chapter 15: Abel Schneiderman**

Verbatim dialog from the "Green Thumb" episode is marked with an asterisk (*).

**The FBI, Austin**

National security hijacked the weekend.

The elevator chimed. Jane and Lisbon got off on their floor of the FBI building early Saturday morning. They paused, taking in the set-up. Part of the floor was lined with rows of chairs facing a podium and projection screen for a mass briefing. Unexpectedly, Kim Fischer came in from the break room and gave them a contemptuous glare as she walked by. Standing close to Jane, Lisbon was startled by the faint shudder she felt go through him at the sight of Fischer, though his face remained a pleasant mask. _Gotta be more to it than just detention. Find out later._

Cho was seated in the back row with a few empty chairs nearby. Lisbon seated herself next to him. Jane remained standing, leaning on the back of the adjacent empty chair. Several heads turned as agents from other floors got their first look at their controversial new colleagues. Lisbon saw the five IT analysts they had interviewed and thought she recognized a few agents from the team that dismantled the CBI two years ago. She resolutely ignored the glances and low buzz. Abbott stepped to the podium and instantly was the focus of the agents. _Like well‑trained guard dogs,_ Jane thought, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.

"We'll be assisting our New York office on this case.* Most of its agents are in the middle of a different major operation." Abbott turned to the case. "This is Abel Schneiderman,"* Abbott clicked to a slide of a man in his early 30's. "He led the team that wrote the new source code to protect the Federal Reserve Banking System. Two days ago, he disappeared from his loft in Brooklyn* after leaving work early because he he felt ill." Abbott put up several photos of the apartment. "There were no signs of struggle. Schneiderman arrived home then vanished during the two hours before his wife arrived home from her job."

Jane interjected, "How do we know he got home? And didn't leave after?"

"The building has key card security for the only entrance except the fire escape. The system shows Schneiderman's key card was last used to enter at 3:18 p.m. A key card is also needed to exit unless the emergency alarm is triggered, which it wasn't. Several other residents entered and exited during the two hours till his wife arrived, but no one saw Abel Schneiderman. All residents were cleared by the New York FBI. His key card, cell phone and wallet were found in their apartment." Abbott looked over the assembled agents. "We are working on the theory he was kidnapped."*

Cho said, "So either the kidnapper had a key card. Or the fire escape was used without it attracting attention." No one else took up challenging the implausible aspects of the working theory.

"That is the implication," Abbott said gravely.

After an awkward moment of silence, "Has there been a ransom demand?"* Fischer asked.

"Not yet, but we're expecting it. Well, it's either that, or they will break him for the code and launch an attack on the Federal Reserve computer system. What Abel knows could bring our banking system to its knees."*

Jane exclaimed not so quietly, "Oh, this is exciting."*

Abbott ignored him and clicked to the next slide. "Abel has a young wife ‑‑ Defiance Schneiderman." Lisbon noticed Jane break into a broad smile, though she wasn't quite sure why. "Now understandably, she's emotional and believes that the FBI is not utilizing all of its resources to find her husband. And unfortunately, we can't let anyone outside the FBI know that Mr. Schneiderman's been kidnapped."* Soberly, "Otherwise, it could cripple the financial systems. The New York office sent an FBI agent posing as a psychic, but Ms. Schneiderman saw right through that."*

Jane didn't bother to mask his amusement. "Well, of course. She's a gypsy. Woman knows a thing or two about psychics."*

"What makes you say gypsy?"*

"Well, Defiance is a gypsy name. Look at her bedroom. It's gypsy catnip. Abel there is Jewish, which means she turned her back on her entire clan to get married. Now she has a missing husband and no family for support. It's a psychic 9‑1‑1."*

"Well there we are. Let's go to work." Abbott the made assignments. The NY FBI would focus its limited resources on in-person interviews in NY. Abbott divided the remaining tasks among his agents: Further investigate the other building residents, investigate Abel Schneiderman's coworkers, and figure out the key parties - domestic and foreign - which might have the motive and means to disrupt the US financial system.

Cho, Jane and Lisbon flew to New York to talk with Ms. Schneiderman. Fischer was on the same flight to coordinate with the New York FBI office, though she sat apart from Cho's group.

**Brooklyn**

Cho's orders were to get as much information from the reluctant Defiance Schneiderman as possible, as well as ensure she would keep confidential her husband's disappearance. They were met by NY FBI agent Ken Raichel, who would accompany Cho's team. Fischer waved at Raichel then left for the NY FBI office after asking Cho to keep her in the loop. The group made their way to Raichel's vehicle. Raichel drove and Cho rode shotgun with Lisbon and Jane in back.

Weekend traffic gave them time to talk. Jane said, "You know Fischer." It wasn't a question.

Raichel glanced back at him. "We both worked in the DC area for awhile. I transferred to New York almost two years ago. She left about the same time after some family changes."

"Her father?"

Raichel straightened in surprise. "Yeah, how'd you know? Her father retired from government service and moved to Florida. Encouraged her to move forward with her career."

Lisbon hazarded her own guess. "Fischer was close to her father, wasn't she?"

"Very." He hesitated, then continued. "I thought it was a good thing for there to be a little more space between them. She seems to have done well under Abbott."

"I'm new, so I don't really know," Lisbon said tactfully. She wasn't sure why Jane wanted to know about Fischer, but trusted his instincts. Jane rarely did anything without a reason.

Traffic started moving again and Raichel's attention returned to driving. He parked, ignoring the no parking zone marked in white reflective paint when they reached the building. An FBI placard would avert any parking ticket. They got out and looked up at the old, five-story building sandwiched closely between similar buildings.

"This is where the Schneidermans live. It's mostly an abandoned storage building, but there are some renters on the top floors. No security cameras."*

Cho asked, "What kind of renters?"*

"Usual fringe types‑‑ artists, dropouts. These aren't legal dwellings, but they got a hell of a view."* Raichel opened the door with the temporary key card the building superintendent had given the FBI.

Jane said, "We need to talk to his wife and see all the areas Schneiderman might have been."

"This way."* Raichel led the group into the small, battered elevator car. They got out on the fourth floor. He led them to a metal door and unlocked it. "Mrs. Schneiderman's giving us access while we're trying to find her husband." They took a quick look around. Raichel told them about the rooftop where Abel Schneiderman had also spent time and was about to lead them out of the apartment just as a young woman with long dark hair walked up. The group paused.

"Hi. Mrs. Schneiderman? Defiance?"* Jane opened.

"Defiance,"* she affirmed.

"You are Romani gypsy?"*

Surprised, "What do you know about it?"*

"Carny circuit. My dad was a showman. So, Defiance–"*

"Yeah."*

"Quite the painter."* Jane motioned to abstract oil paintings hanging on the walls.

Laughing, "And who are you?"* taking in his decidedly non-regulation-FBI appearance.

"Patrick Jane. I was invited by the FBI. They said you need help."*

"Oh, you're a psychic."*

"So I'm told."* Unconsciously holding her breath, Lisbon exhaled in relief at Jane's answer.

Derisively, "All right. Read my palm."* Schneiderman offered her left hand.

Jane looked at her, faint amusement showing. "It only works with a dominant hand."* She switched hands.

After a moment, "No. Can't do it."*

"I knew you were a fake."*

"No, you're not letting me in. You're anxious about finding your husband, and you don't want to be read by a gorger from the government. You're feeling scared and alone."* Jane sighed. "And you don't trust strangers."* He faced her, intense gaze catching hers. "And I don't blame you. You can't trust these guys."

"Jane."* Lisbon cautioned, worried he would take it too far, especially with Raichel there.

He continued, "I mean, they mean well, and they'll find your husband if you let them do their thing."*

"Says you."*

"Yes, says me. Why are you asking the FBI to meet your spiritual needs? Don't you have a trusted psychic of your own?"*

"I do. Cleo. But he's not answering my phone calls."*

"Hmm. That _is_ odd."*

"Can you find him? Can you find Abel?"*

"Where was the last place you saw him?"*

"On the roof, night before last."*

"What were you doing up there?"*

"Sharing a bottle of wine with my girlfriends. Abel came up there with his laptop. He likes to unwind on the roof. It's peaceful.* No one else goes up there except the super sometimes."

"I'd like to take a look at this roof,"* Jane said.

All five went up to the fifth floor. Mrs. Schneiderman waved her hand. "It's the stairs at the end of the hallway."*

The group trooped toward the stairs. Jane suddenly stopped and peered at a door. "Hi."*

Cho, "What is it?"

"Spyhole went dark."*

A security chain clattered and the door opened. An Asian man asked brusquely, "What?"

Cho, "We're with the FBI. Sir, did you see or hear anything unusual in the last couple weeks?"*

"I already told you people, no."*

"We're with a different office."*

The man sighed with ill grace. "So many, like roaches."* He pulled back and closed the door. The deadbolt slid home with a click and the chain clattered.

Raichel, sourly, "Nice guy.* But he has been cooperating."

Lisbon offered, "His name is Nguyen Hai. He's a Vietnamese refugee. He used to run a noodle shop. Now he owns the building."*

Raichel's eyebrows rose. "Read the file?" Lisbon nodded. Raichel added, "He was home the evening of the disappearance, but he didn't hear or see anything."*

Cho frowned. "Schneiderman disappeared. He either left or he didn't. Search this building?"

Raichel grimaced. "Every inch. Nothing."

The group slid the bolt aside and pushed open the door to the roof. It was an unseasonably warm fall day. They sidestepped the dirt piled waist high next to the doorway. As was typical in the city, it was a nearly flat gravel‑and‑tar roof. Rounded white pebbles reflected brilliantly in the bright sun. Several steel tables were lined with pots of various sizes and shapes, and even a long, deep trough filled with dirt. A low access hatch was covered with a hinged wooden lid covered with tar paper and secured with a padlocked hasp and loop. The gap in the low surrounding wall led to the fire escape. Steps connected the landings outside a window for each apartment. The last flight of stairs was hinged and counterbalanced. They would swing down to the pavement only from the weight of a person, to prevent non-resident kids or criminals from gaining access to the building.

After a quick look around, Jane joined Defiance Schneiderman as she looked out over the city.

"So Abel's things were in your apartment, but there was no sign of him when you got home?'

Tears welled up in her brown-black eyes. "That's right. I got home late from the bar.* When I got in, Abel was gone with no sign of him."

"Was he expecting any visitors?"*

"I don't think so. He would have told me before I left."*

"This is your husband's garden?"*

"Mostly. The super sells some potted plants to the hotels and fancy buildings. -How'd you know about Abel?"

"Abel's energy's here. He pours his energy into this garden because he doesn't like being a computer programmer."*

"That's right."*

"He feels trapped in that world."*

"Yes."*

"It's an orderly world, full of rules and numbers. But it's not Abel's world. He sees himself more as a rebel soul."*

She tsked in fond memory of her husband, "He really loves that Che Guevara guy."*

"Yeah, that's why he rides a motorcycle. Grows his own vegetables. That's why he married you."*

"Oh, because I'm a gypsy?"* she asked, unsure whether to be offended.

"Yeah. Because you had the courage to walk away from centuries of tradition for love. You may not know it, but you give your husband the courage to be who he is on the inside."*

"Is Abel alive?"*

"Why don't you help me find him?"* Jane inhaled and slowly exhaled. "I can feel him."* He stretched his hands over the low wall palms out toward the city.

"Where is he?"*

"Just not getting a clear read.* I promise I will help find him. You need to keep this confidential to give us the best chance. Promise?"

She angrily swiped tears from the corners of her eyes and grabbed Jane's arm with both hands to stop him. "I promise. Just _find_ him!" Jane nodded. He was the last to leave, glancing distractedly at the dirt pile a moment before pulling the door closed behind him.

**The FBI, Austin**

Sunday morning found the Austin agents and one consultant back in the bullpen.

"Debriefing. Jenkins?" Abbott cycled through the several teams working the Schneiderman case to bring everyone up to date on what had been discovered. Unfortunately, not enough. Abbott summarized, "Nothing suspicious about any co‑workers. Nothing on any building residents or the superintendent. No reported lost or stolen key cards – at least not recently." He glanced at Cho's team, "Defiance Schneiderman appears to be innocent in this and continues to cooperate." Abbott frowned. "We received a ransom note yesterday afternoon. A first‑class letter sent directly to Abel Schneiderman's office postmarked at the busiest post office in New York City." Abbott turned on the projector to show the note and a photo of a beat up Abel Schneiderman holding a Friday newspaper edition.

Lisbon asked bemused, "What kind of kidnapper uses snail mail?"*

Wylie spoke up, "It's smart, really. Low‑tech, old school, no electronic footprint."*

Abbott continued, "Unidentified kidnappers want ten million deposited into an overseas account by midnight, or they will sell Schneiderman to the highest bidder. Next step would be a cyber‑attack on the Federal Reserve."*

Cho asked, "You want me to notify Secret Service?"*

"Please do."* Cho rose and left. "–Fischer?"

"The New York FBI narrowed his kidnapping suspects to three extremist groups, but we haven't uncovered any solid connections to Schneiderman yet."

"See what you can learn from the note. The photo shows the New York Times, so he's presumably still in the area."

Abbott addressed the whole group again. "Unless we come up with some new ideas, we can and will pay the ransom. We still need to know who's behind this. There's no guarantee they haven't gotten critical information from Schneiderman even if we do get him back. If that's the case, the US could be vulnerable to continuing blackmail demands until the system can be reprogrammed - which could take months. Everyone get on with it." The group broke up with agents briskly returning to their tasks.

Lisbon and Jane hung back near the podium. Lisbon floated a thought to Abbott. "Defiance Schneiderman's psychic disappeared at the same time as her husband. That's awfully coincidental."

Abbott turned to the analysts straggling away. "You – Wylie – checked out the psychic, right?"

Wylie turned back and answered, "Cleo Ascencio, New York psychic, astrologer, healer. His record's completely clean, though."*

Lisbon mused, "Cleo Ascencio. It's such a theatrical name. You think it's real?"*

"It is. We ran his fingerprints."*

"Let me guess. Clean record?"*

"Spotless."*

Having gathered his materials, Abbott lingered to follow their conversation. "What are you suggesting, Lisbon?"*

"Ascencio‑‑ it sounds Cuban. There's a scam that they do in Cuba. Brokers charge large sums of money to surgically modify fingerprints. They swap the right fingertips and the left. It fools immigration every time."*

Impressed, Wylie asked, "How do you know that?"*

"I was a police chief ... with a lot of reading time on my hands."* Wylie looked at Lisbon and gestured at her desk. "Sure, use my computer. It's already on."

Within minutes Wylie had the answer. "I did what Chief Lisbon suggested and ran the left‑hand fingerprints for the right. It worked! Cleo Ascencio transforms into–" he clicked the mouse, "Jose Martinez."*

Abbott asked, "And who is he?"*

"A fraud. A street hustler from Havana. Made a living picking pockets until he stole a wallet from one of Castro's ministers. Now he's wanted by the PNR. He fled Cuba and set up shop here."*

Abbott weighed in, "Interesting but not sure it's important."

Jane had hovered at the periphery, distracted while vaguely tracking the conversation. Shaking his head, puzzled, "This isn't right. There are no extremist kidnappers. What am I missing?"*

Lisbon offered, "Maybe Abel faked his own kidnapping to get money to escape the country."*

"That's very good, Lisbon. That is the best theory yet, but it's wrong, too," he said slowly. "I need another look at that building."*

"Really? Back to Brooklyn?"*

"Yeah."*

They both looked to Abbott. He scrutinized them with narrowed eyes. "Okay. Cho's busy with the Secret Service. You two go. Fischer's going anyhow to continue working with the New York office on those extremist groups. Work together."

Lisbon waited as Jane continued wool-gathering, gaze unfocused as he thought.

Abbott growled, "Get on with it."

Lisbon grabbed Jane's arm before he could react and muttered, "C'mon, Jane. Let's go check out your hunch."

**Brooklyn**

Sunday afternoon flights between Austin and Brooklyn were blessedly uncrowded. Fischer sat near the front of the plane. Jane and Lisbon sat farther back, unfortunately nearer the engines. With one look at Jane, Lisbon squelched her impulse to complain. Even though the engine noise would probably give her a headache, she decided not to push it until she had a better handle on what was going on.

Ken Raichel again picked them up at the airport. He had the key card and vehicle, so it made sense for him to go to Schneiderman's building with Jane. Lisbon accompanied Fischer in hopes of getting more information about the psychic from local law enforcement. She also wasn't quite satisfied with the information about the building superintendent and owner, Nguyen Hai. The local FBI agents put Lisbon in touch with local police. She got no more information on Ascencio. And unfortunately, the LEO she needed to talk with about Hai wouldn't be available till Monday. She and Fischer were just about finished for the day.

Fischer's cell rang. "Kim, your colleague disappeared."

Fischer motioned Lisbon over and put it on speaker phone. "What do you mean, Ken?"

"Jane went up to the roof. Said he didn't need me up there, so I waited in the lobby. Only one door in or out so we couldn't miss each other. Was about to check then heard the fire  
>escape ladder bang on the sidewalk. Didn't see anyone when I got there though. I went up to the roof and the Schneidermans' apartment, but no Jane. He call or anything?"<p>

Lisbon had already speed dialed Jane's number, which went directly to voice mail. She closed her eyes, a terrible sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Just stay there for now, Ken." Fischer hung up and turned to Giovanni, the agent on duty. "I want a BOLO on Patrick Jane." She grabbed Lisbon's cell from her hand before Lisbon could react. Fischer showed him Jane's photo. "Can you use this picture?"

"Sure. Just take a minute." He took Lisbon's phone and left for another office

Fischer turned and looked at Lisbon. "Looks like Jane escaped." She smiled thinly, "Guess your _partnership_ isn't so solid anymore."

Lisbon's hands clenched. Voice under iron control. "Let's find out what happened, _agent_. I need to get to that building."

Fischer said, "Ken reported what happened. You go right ahead. I have some calls to make."

Giovanni returned and handed Lisbon her phone. Lisbon left and hailed a taxi. She had time for a call on the ride there.

"Cho, we have a problem."


	16. Chapter 16 - Trust

**Chapter 16: Trust**

***** A/N: The last chapter was published just a few days ago. *****

**Cho, The FBI, Austin**

Cho had left Abbott's briefing an hour ago. He just finished bringing the Secret Service up to date on the threat and returned his work phone to its charging base. _Lisbon and Jane are on their way back to Brooklyn._ He sighed, _Along with Fischer._ They didn't need his help checking out whatever Jane's hunch was, but he was uncomfortable with Fischer in the mix. Lisbon had called on the way to the airport to fill him in on the rest of the briefing. Regardless of the ransom note and possible involvement of extremist groups, he had a feeling Schneiderman's disappearance lay much closer to home. Jane's indifference to the extremist group idea strengthened his own gut instinct. He was turning hazy notions over in his head when he noticed someone standing by his desk.

Looking up, "Wylie, what are you doing?"*

"Waiting for you."*

"To do what?"*

"Notice me."*

Cho frowned. "Okay. What do you want?"*

"Uh, after I finished the stuff Abbott assigned, I took another look at the key card data. Thought you might be interested since your team went there."

"And?"

Eagerly, he plopped a sheaf of printouts on Cho's desk. He pointed to a highlighted section. "This is the list of key cards and the assigned users in and out from an hour before Abel Schneiderman arrived to an hour after Defiance Schneiderman came home." He shuffled the pages. "But look at the data from earlier that day. Each key card is linked to one renter. Except–" he pointed, "Defiance Schneiderman has this extra card linked to her. How come?"

Cho's eyes narrowed. "An extra card for someone else?"

"That's what I thought."

"And that someone else came in before Abel Schneiderman got there."

"And stayed. There's no exit linked to that card."

_That's one too many coincidences. _"Thanks, Wylie."

"Sure." Wylie collected his printouts and turned to leave.

"Wylie."

Wylie turned back, "Yes, Si– Cho?"

Cho showed him a photo on his cell phone. "This is a photo of the building manager and owner. Good enough to try facial recognition?

Wylie shrugged. "Maybe. –What's the name?"

"Nguyen Hai. That's 'n,' 'g,' 'u,' 'y,' 'e,' 'n,' 'h,' 'a,' 'i.' Most likely in the New York City area."

"Send it to me and I'll get on it." Wylie hesitantly smiled, "Thanks."

_For what? Taking you seriously? Agreeing?_ Cho forwarded the photo to Wylie then turned to more important things to worry about. Like Abel Schneiderman. _Longer he's missing the more likely he's been broken. Or killed._ He could stay in Austin and do computer research with ten other people. Or he could follow his gut and get back to Brooklyn. He rose to talk to Abbott. Ten minutes later he was on his way. Abbott grudgingly went along with the request. But then Abbott keenly felt the time pressure as well. Grasping at straws and hunches was worth a try since by-the-book produced zip so far.

Cho lucked out. He caught one of the handful of non-stops to New York City shortly after getting to the airport. He texted Lisbon even though her cell would be turned off during her flight. Once in the air, he used the plane's on-board cell service to call Wylie in hopes the facial recognition software turned something up. Not yet. Cho told Wylie he'd call periodically.

Wylie had hits three-and-a-half hours into Cho's flight. Cho impatiently brushed aside Wylie's copious apologies for how long it took to sharpen the photo, get permission and links to numerous law-enforcement databases, and then wade through the large Asian population of New York and environs. There were four likely matches. Cho quickly discarded the ones that didn't seem to fit the man he'd met at the building. Former noodle shop proprietor and building owner Nguyen Hai turned out to be Tran Hieu, a former member of the vicious Green Dragons gang, motto "Born To Kill." _Just because he's been away from it for awhile doesn't mean he's changed. Beginning to get interesting._ Landing was imminent by the time Cho was done with Wylie, precluding more calls. He'd call as soon as he disembarked.

His cell announced a voice mail as soon as he turned it on. "Cho, we have a problem."

**Lisbon, Cho and Raichel, Brooklyn**

Lisbon buttoned her pea coat tightly in the taxi. Since she'd arrived, temperatures had dropped 20 degrees and a cutting wind heralded the cold front moving in. It occurred to her Jane had only his three-piece suit. _–Wherever the hell he is._

Cho called her back.

"Jane's missing."

"How, why?"

"I went with Fischer to check out the psychic and the building owner. Raichel went to the building with Jane. He left Jane on the roof an hour ago. Just checked the apartment and roof and no sign of him. Thinks Jane may have gone down the fire escape."

"–You try his–"

"–Went to voice mail."

"What's Fischer doing?"

"Tracked his cell to a city dump, has an agent going to check. Put out BOLO for Jane."

"Okay. I'm 30 minutes away. Meet you there."

"You flew in?"

"Yeah. Lisbon, did Jane say _anything_ that'd explain why he'd leave? Hunch, anything?"

"I've been wracking my brain. Nothing. –Except when I asked what he was looking for, he said, 'Where you typically find a corpse?'"

"Damn cryptic bastard."

She muttered, "Tell me about it." Then, louder, "Cho, Fischer's BOLO says 'armed and dangerous.' He could get shot."

"Let's rule out the building first. I'll call Fischer." He added, "Start searching soon as you get there. Be careful. Nguyen Hai is an alias for Tran Hieu, former gang member."

"Cho-"

"Yeah?"

"You don't think–"

"He gave his word. I'm going with that," Cho answered curtly.

She clenched her jaw, resigned to the torture of uncertainty. "Okay."

The taxi pulled up shortly after their call. Lisbon threw some bills at the cab driver and bolted out the door, not waiting for change. Agent Raichel let her inside with the temporary key card.

"Raichel, brief me."

"Arrived at 3:20 and went up to the roof. My bronchitis was kicking up from the wind and Jane told me to wait downstairs." Lisbon didn't bother to hide her contempt for Raichel's excuse. He ignored that and plowed on. "I waited in the lobby till 4:10. Was about to check when I heard the escape ladder clang down on the sidewalk. I ducked outside and saw someone disappear around the corner. No one in sight when I got there. I came back and checked the roof and Schneiderman's apartment but no Jane. That's when I called Fischer."

"How sure are you it was Jane?"

Raichel shook his head. "Not sure at all. I saw motion. I only know it was a person, not a dog or something."

Lisbon looked around. There was no one within earshot. "My boss found out Nguyen Hai is an alias. The building owner is a former Green Dragons gang member–"

Raichel gave a low whistle.

"-Jane wouldn't duck out without a reason," she continued. _Hope to God that's true!_ "We need to search this place and make sure he isn't here."

Raichel nodded, face grim at his failure to stick with a fellow LEO – consultant or not, regardless of the gossip Fischer told him about Jane.

"Let's start here. You take left, I'll go right. We need to keep an eye on the door, too. Then we'll go up and start on the apartments, 'kay?" Raichel nodded. They drew their weapons and split up. The ground floor was two stories high and nearly half an acre of space, but the search was quick because it was nearly empty.

Lisbon and Raichel had just returned when Lisbon's cell vibrated. Raichel let Cho into the lobby, slamming the door closed against the biting wind.

"Status?"

"Raichel and I searched this floor. About to start on the apartments."

"I need your help first, Raichel. I need a BOLO on Tran Hieu. I think he's involved and may try leaving the US. The ransom will be deposited overseas tonight."

"Uh, my SA should–"

"I need a _favor_. Abbott made Fischer the liaison and she refuses. Can you do it on your authority?"

"Sure." Raichel felt it was the least he could do after losing track of Jane. He took out his cell and called his office. The BOLO for Tran would go out in minutes.

The three piled into the elevator. When they reached the third floor Cho pulled the emergency button to put the elevator out of service. They systematically searched each apartment. It being Sunday, many were occupied. Cho overrode any resistance by explaining that they were interested _only _in the missing FBI agent (not worrying about accuracy). Continued reluctance was met with advice to file a complaint. They simply broke down the doors of unoccupied apartments. Raichel left a card and residents could file a claim for repairs.

They finished searching the third and fourth floors and found nothing. All that was left was the apartment of Nguyen Hai alias Tran Hieu on the top floor, and, the roof. Raichel broke down the apartment door. All three rushed in, weapons drawn. Their caution was for naught because the apartment was empty. Cho swore under his breath. All that was left was the roof.

All three climbed the half-flight of stairs, slid back the bolt and stepped onto the roof. Night had fallen while they'd been searching. The wind whipped around them, quickly chafing any exposed skin. The half-moon and bright starlight let them see well enough. Weapons drawn, their backs to the stairwell enclosure for protection, they again found – nothing. Within minutes Raichel was doubled over with continuous deep, congested coughing spells. Lisbon mentally revised her opinion, realizing Raichel would have been useless had he stayed on the roof with Jane. Cho jerked his head for Raichel to step back inside the door, out of the wind.

Swearing softly, Cho looked at Lisbon, "Got any ideas?" he asked loud enough to be heard over the wind.

Lisbon didn't answer, gaze transfixed by the pile of dirt. "Cho, that's it!" Excitedly, "Where do you find a corpse? Buried in the ground. In dirt." She picked up a slender wooden stake from a pile near a small storage shed and poked it into the big, dirt-filled trough. The stick encountered something solid, but yielding. A shiver having nothing to do with the cold ran down her spine.

Grabbing a hand trowel, Cho's digging quickly exposed a black plastic bag. He used the trowel point to tear it and gagged as the smell of death rose from the bag. Lisbon grimly looked closely and sighed in relief. The clothes weren't Jane's. Or Schneiderman's.

"Cleo Ascencio, I'd guess," she said, then turned away. It wasn't a body, just the dismembered torso.

Cho tipped over another large pot. Dirt and another bag spilled out. This time it was a foot. He reached for his cell phone, but Raichel stepped out and interrupted him.

"Cho, NYPD intercepted Tran. Was trying to board a flight to Honduras. Told them to bring him here."

"Good," Cho all but shouted over the wind.

Raichel looked around, shielding his mouth with his coat collar. "Jesus. Is that what I think it is?" he said loudly, looking at the several plastic bags.

"Yeah," Lisbon said.

**Jane, Brooklyn, Earlier  
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Raichel parked, again ignoring the 'No Parking' lettering painted on the pavement with reflective white paint. He and Jane walked to Schneiderman's building and Raichel let them in with the temporary key card.

"Roof first," Jane said. They passed by the building manager-owner's apartment. Jane noted there was no one behind the spyhole this time. _Nguyen's out. Good._ Raichel slid back the bolt and they stepped onto the roof. Jane noticed that the temperature had already dropped several degrees and the wind had picked up. He looked around, particularly interested in the larger planters. Raichel started coughing deep, hacking coughs. He didn't stop.

Jane looked at him. "Raichel, wait in the lobby. You're going to hack up a lung."

Between spasms, Raichel replied, "Should–" cough, "stay with you," he wheezed.

"One way in or out. Just call if you see Nguyen."

Raichel nodded, unable to muster the breath to talk.

Jane opened the small supply shed. _Nothing particularly nefarious. Hand trowel, spray paint, by-pass pruners, twine, plant stakes, buckets, pesticides, fertilizers._ His eyebrows rose in surprise. _Roll of black plastic bags. _ He thought for a second, frowned and nodded, _Oh._ He picked up a thin plant stake and walked over to a big planter filled with dirt. He poked the stake into the loose ground. It easily went through the dirt down to the bottom. He tried the large trough next. He encountered something solid on his second try, although whatever it was had 'give.' It wasn't rigid like a block or piece of wood. Jane stepped back eyeing the trough - 4' by 2' by 2' deep. He closed his eyes and swallowed a mouthful of saliva, trying to keep down his lunch. After a couple of deep breaths he muttered, "Little garden of horrors," and walked to the door to leave, about 15 minutes after he had come up.

Jane pulled. Bolted. He closed his eyes visualizing Raichel leaving the roof, then swore. Raichel had _not_ bolted the door. _Crap._

Jane reached for his cell, only to realize he hadn't gotten Raichel's number. _And Lisbon's too far away!_ He shoved an empty steel workbench against the door, knowing anyone who came through wouldn't be his friend, then ran to the fire escape.

Bad news was seeing Nguyen three floors down. Worse news was the glint of gray metal in his hand. Gun.

He looked around. There was nothing he could use to counter a gun. The buildings on either side were several feet higher over a 50 foot drop. _No._

_Damn._ Jane ran to the supply cabinet and grabbed a can of spray paint, making sure it was the reflective stuff. He sprayed huge block letters on the roof, the white paint barely showing up against the white gravel. He tossed the can over the side when he finished. Hoping against hope, Jane pulled the door again. Still bolted. Still trapped.

Nguyen stepped onto the landing and then onto the roof, gun in hand. Jane couldn't tear his gaze from the black hole of the barrel. He struggled to contain his fear, to think! _No silencer, thank god._ Nguyen wouldn't want to shoot with an FBI agent downstairs. His fear eased a bit.

Nguyen smiled mirthlessly, perfectly following his thoughts. "That's right. I won't shoot unless you make me. So don't make me."

"What are you going to do?"

"Let mother nature take care of you." Brusquely, "Get over here and lie down on your belly." He threw a pair of old handcuffs by Jane's hand. "Cuff yourself. Behind your back."

When Jane finished, Nguyen got twine from the shed. He knelt on Jane's back and put a loop around one ankle, striking the bone with his gun when Jane tried to kick him in the head.

"You're gonna be tied with a concussion or without. Your choice." Finished with the rope, he forced a work rag into Jane's mouth and tied it behind his head. Nguyen stood and laughed. "Trussed up like a pig. Ironic, no?"

He walked over to the attic hatch, unlocked the padlock, and opened the lid. He then dragged Jane over the low edge and dumped him in. Jane fell heavily, unable to break his fall or even cry out. Before the cover was closed he could make out small bags of white powder. _Drugs._ The good news was that he hadn't been killed or even hurt badly. The bad news was that Nguyen didn't care about him seeing several hundred thousands worth of drugs. Nguyen didn't plan on him seeing the light of day again. His hands were already numb from the cold.

There was absolutely no chance he could free himself. Having a choice between whiling away the time in abject fear or working out the crime, Jane chose the latter.

_Nguyen was moving the drugs when Defiance's psychic came up. Somehow he got in, no doubt to snoop and bolster her belief in his amazing psychic powers. Why the roof? More snooping, maybe drop some detail about Abel's garden. Wrong place, wrong time. Nguyen killed him of course. Dismembered him and buried him in the big planters in black plastic bags. Keep the smell down. 'Deliver' the planters and – voila! – no body to find. Only Abel came home early and caught him dismembering Cleo. Somehow Nguyen knew Schneiderman was worth something. Didn't kill Schneiderman, at least not immediately. Huh. Schneiderman might still be alive. Kept somewhere here. Nguyen's apartment? Another apartment – vacant, maybe? Geez. Dismembering. This can't be the first time. There's more to Nguyen than that noodle shop and this building. Please, Lisbon. Figure it out. Wonder if Wylie – Don't speculate! Just keep breathing, Paddy. Long shot, but they'll be looking for me. Shit! Unless they think I ran. I told Cho, promised him. And Lisbon. God, let them trust me. Ignore the past lies and cons and deceptions. ... Please!_

Hours passed. The chill settled in his bones. His hands and feet were so numb pain didn't register anymore. He could kill for water, though. The gag absorbed his saliva and the cold, dry air robbed his body of moisture as he breathed. He wondered if drugs had ever spilled, if he would inadvertently over-dose. He really, really wondered if they would find him. It almost became an abstract curiosity. He literally couldn't move, couldn't make a sound. Either they would find him. In time. Or they wouldn't. It was completely out of his control and there was almost comfort in that. Except for the searing pain of not having those years to finally, finally openly love Lisbon – make her his. Hot tears wasted more moisture until he eventually thought and felt nothing more.

**Lisbon, Cho and Raichel, Brooklyn**

Cho again reached for his cell phone and was startled when it rang first. "Cho. Can't hear. Wait." He ducked inside the stairwell and pulled the door to. "Go ahead."

Wylie's voice said, "I'm looking at satellite images of Schneiderman's building. Looks like spray-painted letters. Reflective paint."

"We're on the roof. Didn't see anything."

"I'm sending you the image. Capital letters 't,' 'a,' and 'n.'" After a pause, "Looks like there's more, but it's just scattered sparkles."

"Thanks." Cho ended the call and went back outside.

Lisbon had found a flashlight in the shed and was looking around.

"Wylie says letters are spray-painted on this roof." They both frowned. "'T,' 'A,' 'N,' and maybe another one that got messed up."

"Jane! He's here somewhere."

Lisbon played the light over the roof then ran to the attic access hatch. Raichel started hacking again and Cho waved him back to the stairwell.

"Cho, the lock has new scratches. We need to open this!" She drew her gun and aimed at the lock. She motioned Cho back for safety. The trajectory would nearly parallel the rooftop, ensuring that anyone under the roof or in the building wouldn't be hit.

Suddenly, "Cho," Raichel called, "PD has Tran here."

"Go help Lisbon," he said as he sidled past Raichel.

Ears ringing from the shot Lisbon nudged the hot metal hasp off with the toe of her boot. She and Raichel pulled the heavy wooden lid open. The flashlight revealed a gray suited figure atop the joists four feet below the roof.

"Jane!"

The figure groaned and barely moved. He lay on his front, hands and feet hogtied behind him, mouth gagged. Movement was near impossible.

"Help me get him up!" Lisbon demanded, then realized Cho would have to help.

She ran to the stairwell and down to Nguyen-Tran's apartment. A PD officer was standing near the handcuffed man. Cho was demanding, "...us where Schneiderman is."

Tran smiled contemptuously. "I don't know anything."

"Cho, you and Raichel have to get Jane. He's unconscious and it's freezing up there."

A muscle jumped in Cho's jaw. "Keep him here," he said to the cop and strode off toward the stairs. Lisbon followed for a few yards, then thought better of it and went back.

Tran had picked the lock. He kicked the cop in the groin and ran for the elevator.

"Stop or I'll shoot!"

He didn't.

She wounded him in the left shoulder, knocking him off his feet.

Lisbon ran to him and kneed him in the back to keep him down. She cuffed his right hand and savagely pulled it back as she grabbed his left and cuffed it too.

"Get up." He moaned but didn't move till she nudged him with her boot none too gently. She herded him back to the apartment.

Cho followed on their heels. "Got it?"

Lisbon nodded. "Jane?"

"He's breathing. Think he'll be okay." Cho grabbed a blanket from the bedroom and returned to the roof.

The cop had recovered enough to stand upright as she came in with Tran. "Call an ambulance. Nguyen, Tran, whoever the hell you are, where's Schneiderman? Tell us if you want to be alive for that ambulance."

"You bitch, you cun–" The cop backhanded Tran, cutting off his tirade.

Coldly, "You're under arrest for the attempted murder of Patrick Jane. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. -You face execution if Schneiderman dies." She stepped closer and shoved his wounded left shoulder. "Tell me!"

Tran's face blazed with hate.

"Officer, I need to step out a minute. Maybe you'd like to ask him a question?" Lisbon said, looking pointedly at Tran's groin.

"You fu–" The officer shoved him back against the wall by his left shoulder.

Tran slumped. Thin-lipped with pain, eyes alight with rage, he said sullenly, "No death penalty and I'll tell you."

Lisbon stood rigid with anger. "No death penalty if Schneiderman lives. Take it or leave it."

"He's in the closet."

"We searched."

"Behind the false wall, you stupid Anglos."

"Watch him." Lisbon walked farther into the apartment. It took a few minutes, but she found the closet and managed to open the hidden door.

Everything happened at once. Cho and Raichel carried a blanket-wrapped, barely conscious Jane down the stairs. Lisbon untied an unconscious Schneiderman and removed the gag, relieved he was alive if beat up. The EMT's arrived with a stretcher, then called for two more at the sight of three injured men.

Cho said, "Check these two first," pointing to Jane and Schneiderman. Voice rough, "Make sure he doesn't bleed out," he nodded toward Tran.

**FBI, Austin**

Cho's team returned to Austin late Monday. Hypothermic, battered, and exhausted, Jane spent Sunday night in a trauma center with Lisbon by his side. It was clear fairly soon that Jane and Schneiderman would fully recover. The NYC FBI had police protection posted for Schneiderman and, at Cho's request, for Jane, too. Cho spent much of his night at the New York City FBI office. After briefing Abbott by phone, he wrote out his report with Raichel's help. The FBI got him a room at a hotel near the hospital. The three caught a flight back to Austin around noon, Monday. Jane and Lisbon went straight home since it was nearly the end of the work day anyhow. Cho went in to meet with Abbott.

Cho knocked. Abbott waved him in and Cho took a seat. They sat in silence for a minute.

"Excellent work. All three of you. And Wylie, too."

"Yes."

Abbott's eyes narrowed. "But what?"

"You said I was no longer under suspicion."

"You aren't."

Cho leaned forward. "Then why was Agent Fischer allowed to veto a reasonable request necessary to solve the case?"

"Details?"

"I wanted a BOLO for Nguyen, alias Tran. She refused. Your agent should follow a reasonable request by _any_ team leader."

"She should. I will–"

"There's more."

"Go ahead."

"Fischer put out a BOLO for Jane, with an 'armed and dangerous' warning. Jane could have been shot. And Fischer's animus got in the way of Lisbon employing her good judgment on the case."

"I used Fischer because she knows some New York agents and because _everyone_ was working the case. I will have a discussion with her about your concerns."

"More was learned from this case."

"Such as?"

"Jane could have disappeared. He didn't."

"So?"

"I want that trust extended to my team. Specifically, Jane."

"You ask a lot, Cho."

"You're getting a lot, Agent Abbott."

Abbott leaned back in his chair, a speculative gleam in his eye. "Why do you trust Jane?"

"He gave me his word."

Skeptically, "Which you believe?"

"Jane is the most devious person I know. He rarely makes promises. When he does, it means something."

"I am not convinced. Yet. I may get there."

Cho drew a breath and exhaled slowly. "Until you're convinced, I need my team protected. I need reasonable requests followed."

"On that we agree."

"Yes, Sir."

"Cho–" Cho turned back. "Good work." Cho nodded and left.

**Lisbon and Jane**

Lisbon and Jane entered their respective apartments. Both showered and changed after the grueling weekend. Lisbon tapped on Jane's door.

"Hey," she said, entering. "I ordered Tex-Mex, including your favorites. Barbeque, cowboy caviar, cornbread."

He sank down on the couch, still tired, still vaguely cold. "Thanks. I'll pay. There's money in my wallet."

"Tea?"

"Blessed is Saint Teresa."

She flicked his arm. "You know I don't like that. 'Sides, never heard of any 'saint' having torrid sex with her unbearably handsome partner."

He chuckled, "You know they edit out the good parts."

She sighed, "Glad you're not religious."

Head back, eyes closed, he grinned. "Makes two of us."

She returned with tea for them both. Instead of sitting next to him she sat in the armchair at right angles to the couch.

Jane sipped the steaming liquid. "Mmmmm. Best medicine in the world."

Serious, "Feeling better?"

"Yeah. Not sure I'll ever feel warm again."

Lisbon sighed.

"That sounds ominous.

"Jane, what am I s'posed to do with you?"

"Oh, lots of things that I hope very much you – we – will keep doing."

"This is serious."

This time he sighed. He sat straighter and opened his eyes. "This has been building all day. What's the matter, Teresa?"

"What did we agree on, just last week?"

"Never again order from that dumpy Thai restaurant?"

Voice raised, "Dammit. Just last week you said you'd tell me – hell, tell me _and_ Cho – before you run off half cocked and put yourself in danger."

He took a deep breath, then winced as his bruised ribs protested. "I – I'm trying. We both went to New York. Something about that roof bothered me, but I wasn't sure–"

She abruptly stood. "I need to know long before 'sure.' You almost got killed. You thought there was a body buried up there. You made a joke about where to find a corpse. You couldn't tell Cho and me?"

He dropped his gaze and rolled his shoulders to relieve the tension. Faintly, "I could have ... mentioned it."

Her eyes flashed in anger. "So what happens next time?"

He met her gaze. "I'll try – I _will _tell you. Beforehand."

"Trust, Jane."

Remembering those hours trapped on the roof, he swallowed. "Thank you for trusting me. For not thinking I ran off."

She settled in her chair, mollified. "Yeah, well, we both have to start somewhere. Jane – Patrick, I'll stick with you so long as you're really trying, so long as I see progress."

He exhaled tiredly. "I can't ask for more." She rose to answer the door for the food but he grabbed her wrist. "We _will_ make this work." Awkwardly honest, no mask, no doubt.

"I'm counting on it." She pecked him on the lips and tugged her hand loose so she could answer the door.


	17. Chapter 17 - Questions

**Chapter 17: Questions**

***** A/N: Chapter 16 was posted March 8 and wraps up the Schneiderman case. Please read that chapter first. *****

**Abbot and Fischer**

Dennis Abbott got to work early on Tuesday. He had to finish the report on the Schneiderman case before leaving for Philadelphia to resume work on Blake. But a meeting he _had_ to have this morning weighed most heavily. _It's more than inexperience or disappointment. What am I missing? I've run through the likely explanations. Time to consider the improbable, no matter how ugly. _

He looked up at the knock on his door and waved in the agent.

"You wanted to meet, Sir?"

"Yes, I do. Fischer, brief me on what happened in New York as you saw it."

She perched on the edge of the chair, uneasy but resolute. "After our flight got in, Agent Raichel and Jane went to Schneiderman's building so Jane could check out some theory."

_Words are neutral. Not tone._

"Lisbon and I went to the New York FBI office. I needed to be briefed on the suspected extremist groups. Lisbon wanted more information from local LEO's about Ascencio and Nguyen."

"Did she get it?"

Fischer shrugged diffidently. "She didn't get too far with the local LEO's on either man."

Abbott's gazed unblinkingly at her. After a moment, "I'm surprised the New York FBI doesn't have more pull with local law enforcement."

"They didn't get involved."

"Because?"

"The SA was busy with his other operation. Didn't want to bother with Lisbon."

"Even after you pushed him for help with _Agent_ Lisbon's request?"

"Oh. –I didn't talk with him about it."

Abbott leaned back and the silence stretched over a minute. "You were the liaison. But you didn't push to get the locals to help," he stated flatly. When Fischer didn't elaborate, he moved on. "Cho wanted a BOLO put out for Nguyen, alias Tran. Did he ask you to arrange that?"

"Well, yes. I hadn't gotten to it when Agent Raichel had it put out."

"And that was how long after _Senior Agent _Cho's request?"

She swallowed convulsively. "A half hour."

"A half hour when it would take, oh, a minute to have the administrative staff effect the order. –But you did put out a BOLO on Jane?"

"Yes. After he disappeared. His agreement is clear about the terms of service–"

Abbott's voice rumbled quietly, dangerously. "-I'm familiar–"

Over-wrought, she heedlessly plunged on, "And the agreement doesn't absolve him of three - probably more – murders."

"Which is why you included the 'armed and dangerous' advisory?"

"Yes!" Relief showed in her eyes.

Abbott didn't say anything for 30 seconds. "Every one of your judgment calls proved wrong. _Agent _Lisbon was right about Nguyen. _Senior Agent _Cho's BOLO apprehended the perp and led to Schneiderman's rescue. Had Nguyen gotten out of the country and Schneiderman died, the Federal Reserve wouldn't know if the system was breeched. We could have been blackmailed for months if not worse. And Jane had been abducted and left to die from exposure."

Fischer's face was frozen in a neutral mask.

Abbott leaned forward, hands loosely clasped and forearms resting on his desk. Voice soft, "Your dad and I go way back, Kim. But I can't give you a pass any more. You endangered the mission. You assumed the worst about someone on our team. I cannot square this Kim Fischer with the agent I know you to be."

She licked her lips nervously, gaze dropping to a suddenly fascinating patch of carpet.

"I am _trying _to understand. You were enthusiastic about going undercover on the island. Eager to get that hundred percent close asset working for us. Ever since his detention, you've had a chip on your shoulder, not just about Jane but Cho and Lisbon, too.' He frowned, perplexed. "What changed?"

When he got no response, Abbott took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Kimmie, face me, please." She looked up. Softly, "I have to ask. Did Jane do something – attack you ... rape you?"

She paled, expression ashamed, mortified.

_Oh my God. Let it not be so!_

Fischer finally whispered, "No."

A wave of relief and confusion rolled through Abbott, "Then what did happen?"

Hesitantly, "I – I told Dad about Jane, about how I thought he could solve cases. He used his contacts to get the true picture. We know Jane killed. Several. And before his family's murder, he bilked vulnerable people out of millions. At the CBI he broke the law, sometimes set people up to get killed. Jane could be part of Blake. –Dad helped me see him for what he is. And if Lisbon and Cho were with him a decade, they've got to be part of it too."

Abbott drew a deep draught of air and released an equally great sigh. He stood. "C'mon. Let's both get some coffee. Then we'll talk about where we go from here."

They returned several minutes later, coffee in hand. The tension was lower, though by Fischer's expression the uncertainty was torture.

Calmly, "Agent Fischer, I was not and am not enthusiastic about having Jane work for the FBI. But I have no choice. Initially I shared your suspicions about Jane, Lisbon and Cho. After looking into their background for almost two years, I _know_ Cho isn't Blake. And, by God, I don't think Lisbon or Jane are either. Cho's team _solved _the Schneiderman case and they're doing good work on other cases. Regardless of my personal preferences, I will use those assets to benefit the FBI and our nation every way I can."

Quietly, "I respectfully disagree."

"And that is your prerogative. It is _not_ your prerogative to disobey orders. I am removing all discretionary judgment on your part regarding Cho and his team. If I am forced to have you work a case with them, you will either follow reasonable requests, or refer the matter to me. Immediately. Am I clear?"

Shaken, "Yes."

"Kim, you stumbled, but you have the potential to be a fine agent. It's in everyone's best interest for you to interact as little as possible with that team. Think what you want, but you _will_ treat them professionally like anyone else in the FBI. –Any questions?"

"No, Sir."

"We leave for Philly this afternoon to work on Blake. Dismissed."

**Jane and Lisbon, The FBI**

"... got rid of those ratty island clothes," Lisbon was saying as Jane held the door for her.

"They were comfortable. Everyone dressed like that," he objected half-heartedly.

"Yeah, well–"

"–Morning Agent Lisbon, Mr. Jane." It was the first time the security guard had greeted them. Jane nodded his acknowledgment.

"Good morning," Lisbon responded, surprised. She looked back over her shoulder, trying to remember if she'd had any positive interaction with that guard before. Then resuming her train of thought, "–News flash, Jane. This isn't Venezuela, or the beach. I, for one, prefer the classic Patrick Jane."

He grinned, and wiggled his eyebrows. "'Classic,' huh? Like the sound of that."

"Oh, _please_. It's just a phrase." They were ten feet away when the elevator doors started to close on the mostly full car. An agent – Jenkins? – put his hand out and held the doors. They hurried and stepped in.

"Thanks," Lisbon said. Jane just smiled.

They stepped off the elevator. They had woken late meaning Lisbon hadn't had time to make coffee or buy a cup on the way. She scowled thinking about the delay between when she would start coffee brewing and when she could be drinking her first, precious cup of liquid energy. Jane went on to the bullpen, knowing Lisbon would also put water on for his tea. His smile widened. A two-drawer filing cabinet had appeared next to his couch. It was just the right height to serve as a side table. A moment later Lisbon appeared with both coffee and tea.

"That was fast."

"Someone already made coffee. Even had water boiling for tea."

Jane took the cup and saucer and nudged Lisbon with his shoulder. She turned, then flushed as she realized everyone on the floor was looking at them. They nodded to Lisbon and Jane and then returned to their work.

"My Dear," Jane said softly, "we've just been accepted into the fold," enjoying Lisbon's tiny smile of appreciation.

"Solved the case. Made Austin look good," agreed Cho who had quietly walked up behind them.

"And saved the nation from financial chaos," Jane added melodramatically. "I think that deserves a nap."

"Jane, Lisbon. Any objection to bringing Wylie aboard?"

"–Good choice," Lisbon smiled.

"-Nope." Jane set his tea on the filing cabinet and gingerly arranged himself on the couch, mindful of the bruises he'd reaped in Brooklyn.

**Wylie and Cho**

Feeling eyes upon him Cho looked up to find Wylie standing patiently next to his desk.

"Stop that."

"Sir?"

"That too. –Wylie, don't just stand there, _say something_ when you come up."

"Yes, Sir."

Cho glowered at him, then relaxed. "I asked you to come over to talk about the analyst position."

"Yes, Sir. Uh, I appreciated the chance to interview and, well, I hope I can occasionally do work for you. I mean, the Schneiderman case was fu– interesting and all," he rambled on nervously.

"Wylie, _stop!"_ With silence and order restored, Cho looked sternly at him and said, "Better be more than 'occasional.' My team delivers _all_ the time."

"Yes, Si– wait! You mean I'm going – you're hiring – I'm _on_–"

Cho took pity. "You have the tech position if you want it."

"Yes, Sir – Cho. I'm–"

Taking control of the conversation, "You're babbling. Get your stuff. Take that desk," Cho pointed to one in front of Lisbon. "You'll get a raise, too."

Wylie grinned, managed a 'thank you' and left to move his things from the analyst pool downstairs. Eyes still closed, Jane smirked and said, "Now if you can just get him to stop vibrating in place..."

"Be nice, Jane. He saved your ass."

Jane yawned, "As expected," and turned to face the couch back, the better to sleep. They caught a case later that morning.

**Cho's Team, San Antonio**

It was an hour drive to the San Antonio crime scene. Cho, Lisbon and Jane put it to good use.

"Time to start work on Blake," Jane announced, riding shotgun next to Cho.

"What do you have in mind, Jane?" Lisbon asked from the rear seat. Cho enjoyed the perk of driving. Jane had fussed about his long legs cramping when he was stuck in the back until Lisbon let him claim the passenger seat. She really didn't mind much, rather enjoying all physical aspects of Jane these days.

"We've settled in and the Bureau is getting used to us," he said, grinning smugly as he recalled predicting the FBI would adapt to _him._

Cho read that thought and gave him a dirty look. "Don't flatter yourself. It's because we solved Schneiderman."

Even more smug, "Precisely!" Cho snorted. "As I was saying, work has settled down and we've reminded them how valuable we are. Time to test Abbott."

"Verifying he's not part of Blake," clarified Lisbon.

"How?" asked Cho.

"Set a trap. Before McAllister - died, I figured out a member of Blake's upper echelons. One Abbott hasn't found yet, according to his list of Blake members." Cho and Lisbon looked at him waiting for him to continue. "It's Judge Davenport in Sacramento." They both recalled the easy-going judge who, confusingly enough, never seemed happy with the SCU's cases.

"You're absolutely sure?" Lisbon pressed, always concerned when Jane's hunch wasn't backed up by tangible evidence.

"Don't be insulting."

Cho sighed and tuned out. _Forgot about the bickering. All that's missing is Rigsby with his tapeworm and endless mooning over Grace. My life would be complete._ "So?" he wrenched them back on topic.

"We _accidentally_ drop the name and Blake connection. See what Abbott does. Simple. Then decrypt Bertram's thumb drive."

Lisbon rolled her eyes. _I'll believe 'simple' when it works._

The San Antonio case wrapped up quickly when Jane observed that it had to be an accidental death unless the murderer was shorter than four feet. Blindingly obvious once he pointed it out, no one but Jane had seen it. On Wednesday the ME's autopsy confirmed Jane's conclusion, ending the case. Lisbon and Cho wrote it up and caught up on paperwork while Jane caught up on sleep.

Jane was at loose ends most of Thursday, meaning Cho, Lisbon and Wylie were constantly interrupted. Even though Wylie's assortment of neat oddities on his desk – not to mention the biggest oddity of all, Wylie himself – occupied Jane for awhile, Cho was reaching the end of his rope by mid-afternoon. When Jane ambled over to start his second round of pestering, Cho welcomed Jane's offhanded suggestion.

"Comp time for working the weekend?" Jane floated the idea leaning over Cho's desk.

Lisbon turned in her seat. "Since when does law-enforcement work a 40-hour week, much less get comp time?"

Cho was more direct, "Who _are_ you?"

Sunnily, "Never too late for a good idea."

Annoyed, "Fine. All of you have tomorrow off. Start now."

Jane grinned and turned to Lisbon. "I believe boss man said we can leave."

Cho growled. "You - _go!_ Optional for them."

Jane mock saluted and shepherded Lisbon out the door. The last Cho heard was "I haven't been to a carnival in years. How about we go tomorr..."

**Lisbon and Jane, Houston**

Lisbon stifled a yawn, wondering how Jane had talked her into getting up early on a day off to drive two hours to a carnival in Houston. She glanced at Jane. _He's really happy we're going. And it _has_ been a decade since I took Annabeth when she was little. Well what the hell? Join the FBI and live a little. If anyone can be fun at a carnival, Jane's it._

"Huh? What did you say?" she asked, belatedly registering his query. She looked over, meeting that piercing gaze that used to make her uncomfortable.

He nibbled his bottom lip. "You've been hiding something since New York. What about all that honesty and openness we're supposed to practice?"

"What makes you think–"

He rolled his eyes, "_Please_, Lisbon. Skip the ineffectual denial and tell me."

She grimaced then gave in. _Why do I bother anymore?_ She wasn't eager to open that can of worms, knowing it might suck the enjoyment from their outing. But having no choice, she said, "Fischer was supposed to be liaison with the New York FBI. She didn't lift a finger to help."

"Not the full story. What else?"

"She wouldn't issue a BOLO on Tran when Cho asked, but had time to put one out on you." _Hope that's enough so he'll drop it._

"Okay." He tilted his head as her micro-expressions indicated there was more to be explored. "There's something more about me. What?"

Lisbon sighed. "She wasn't just trying to find you. It included the 'armed and dangerous' advisory. You could have been shot-"

"Only if I ran," he emphasized. Jane turned the new bit of information over in his head, then smiled a few moments later as the new factoid fit nicely into a theory he was building about Fischer.

Glancing at him, "You think it means something – beyond just not liking you."

He tipped his head diffidently. "Maybe." Lisbon knew she wouldn't get more out of him but decided to let it slide since this could help with her question.

Fifteen minutes later they stopped for coffee and soda – Jane preferred the caffeinated, sugary stuff to bad tea when they were traveling. Jane was pleased when Lisbon agreed to let him drive. He was surprised because it was her personal SUV, but he attributed her unexpected flexibility to the outing. She enjoyed these bits of normal life almost as much as he did. On the road again, he settled into the driver's seat, content to look forward to a pleasant day with the woman he loved.

"What's special about Fischer?"

He was startled from his thoughts. "Oh, she's a female in a male-dominated profession. She–"

"Cut the crap. Why does she bother _you_ so much?"

"Who says she does?"

Lisbon grinned and said, "What about all that honesty and openness we're s'posed to practice?"

He made a face. _Nailed with my own words. _"To what do you refer? Precisely?"

Lisbon sobered. "You shuddered when Fisher walked into the bullpen last week. There's something about her that really bothers you. What's going on?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Well, she let a drug dealer's thugs beat me up in Venezuela, after we had dinner and danced. ... Lied." He glanced at Lisbon, but that was clearly not enough. "Was pretty much a bitch about the terms of detention. Of course she bothers me."

Lisbon mentally rolled those thoughts around for a moment, then looked searchingly at Jane. "You didn't like any of that. But that's not all, not enough." Quietly, "What else, Jane?"

He sighed and slumped in the driver's seat, his buoyant mood evaporating. Eyes on the ribbon of highway ahead, he muttered, "It's a long story."

"We have time. Let me help."

He looked over and couldn't resist the deep pools of green eyes or the sympathetic expression. _We're going to be in the FBI awhile. Lisbon needs to know what we're dealing with, I guess._ Neutrally, "Carnivals are the definition of nomadic. People float in, travel with the show awhile, leave. And not everyone who attends is interested in the ... formal attractions."

"Go on," she said encouragingly. _Talking in riddles. I should be picking up on something, but what?_

"When I was a kid, I attracted attention for more than the Boy Wonder act."

Cautiously, "Like what?"

He suddenly reached for his soda and took a sip, eyes not leaving the road, intentionally avoiding her eyes. He puffed out his cheeks as he exhaled. "Like pedophiles. Men, mostly."

She swallowed, suddenly nauseous. "Um, you–"

He hurried to reassure her. "No, thank god. Pete caught guys more than once who showed a little too much interest. Beat the crap out of them and kicked them out." Then, coldly, "My father also kept them away."

_He must have looked like an angel as a kid. Pretty angelic now... _She muttered, "At least he did something good."

Jane barked a laugh filled with pain. "He was protecting his meal ticket. Was afraid I'd be too messed up to perform if someone got to me."

Lisbon carefully kept pity out of her expression. Almost afraid to ask, "And how does that connect to the present?"

"Nothing terrible, Lisbon. I – I told you that so you'd understand. Why I hate being vulnerable. Exploited. Why I swore I'd protect people I care about. And myself."

Memory served up images and moments. Jane promising he'd always save her. His devastation at failing his family, at – in his eyes – causing their murders. Insisting she trust him. Helping Rigsby avenge his father. And Cho with his friend's murder. Hesitantly, "And you _were_ vulnerable in that detention cell. No oversight, no one to rein her in."

"Yeah. Uh, you know most of how it was." He rolled his shoulders to relieve the tension. "Well, a couple times after I was drugged my clothes were messed up." He rushed on before Lisbon could say anything. "Just my shirt. But, even _that_ makes my skin crawl."

Lisbon gathered the courage to say it aloud. "You think Fischer tried to seduce you while you were drugged?"

Almost too soft to hear, "Yeah."

Quietly furious, "That's assault. Worse because she couldn't even pretend you consented. We–" She flashed back to Fischer's comment when Raichel called to say Jane was missing. _Makes sense now. Warped, smarmy bitch._

Jane put his fingers lightly over her lips. "Shhh. It's in the past now."

Lisbon clamped down on her outrage. _What will help Jane? How does he want to handle it?_ More calmly, "What do you want to do?" She rubbed his shoulder comfortingly.

"Nothing."

A deep breath helped hold her temper. Tersely, "Why?"

"There's more to this than a twisted agent. I don't want to interact with her. But I want to watch her until I know how she fits into the situation." He suddenly shrugged. "If she fits at all."

"How do you want me to act? Shouldn't we tell Cho?"

He shook his head. "Just act normal. We'll tell Cho if I find there's more to this."

Conscience suddenly getting to her. "But if she's abusive, she shouldn't be–"

He interrupted, "-I think it's specific to me. Teresa, I don't think she's going to abuse anyone."

"Else," Lisbon added under her breath.

They rode in silence till they reached Houston. By then their mood had lightened again, cheered by the bright sunny day and prospect of fun.

"Hey," Jane chirped when they reached the city limits, "let's eat before the carnival. Better food, better prices."

"Don't fancy those 20 dollar hotdogs, huh?"

"Only if I'm getting the money, not paying it."

They found a chain restaurant they both liked and stopped for an early lunch. Lisbon not being a morning person, they had grabbed a piece of fruit when they left in lieu of breakfast.

Waiting for their food, Lisbon mused, "I always thought carnivals were pretty much over by October."

"Up north it's too cold by late October. But Houston's temps are in the 80's during the day and mid-50's at night. Perfectly fine for the carnival to have its southern leg this time of year."

Lisbon idly perused the dessert menu, until something snagged her attention. "Wait. Jane, you said _the_ carnival."

"So?"

"Not 'a' carnival, or 'some' carnivals, but '_the'_ carnival." She looked at him with narrowed eyes. "This isn't just some random one, it's yours, isn't it?"

He cleared his throat. "And if it is?"

"Stop answering a question with a question! That's why you wanted to come today, isn't it?"

He looked equal measures guilty and mischievous. "Yeah, I have ulterior motives."

"Will Sam and Pete be here?"

"Yes."

She leaned back, examining him closely. "And you'll get–"

He talked over her, "Yeah, but nothing worth mentioning," with a meaningful glance thrown in.

Lisbon gave a slight nod. "Okay. Um, I need to call Cho."

"Cho?" he said, slightly alarmed. "Why?"

Voice lowered. "This is part of that keeping everyone informed, remember? As I recall, you may still be a target. And we're here to take that first step we talked about, right?" She avoided saying anything that would be damaging if overheard by – by whomever.

**The Carnival**

Lisbon had a great time at the carnival. The carnival was a deluxe Ruskin operation, complete with numerous scary rides as well as the iconic games and shows and food. It turned out she and Jane both loved coasters and rode them till both sported new bruises from hairpin turns and seemingly vertical drops. In an effort to keep it fun, Jane bet her that he would win a prize at every game in the place, including the air rifles. She thought she'd be the better shot but only managed a tie. Jane was at the elephant enclosure at 5 p.m. and was met by Pete. Jane palmed the small object Pete 'forgot' on the railing. He would have liked to visit, but this wasn't a social occasion, after all.

They left the carnival at 8 p.m., mindful of the two hour ride home. Before starting the drive, they sat and talked in the semi-darkness while sitting on a bench. Jane showed her the thumb drive he'd gotten from Pete. Lisbon thought it looked different from what she remembered and learned she was right. At Jane's request, Pete had duplicated it at a copy shop. Jane got the copy. Pete would deliver the original to Van Pelt in two weeks when they got back to California for winter layover.

_Corruption. Secrecy. Danger. Like old times_, Lisbon thought. She looked at the handsome, relaxed man at her side._ With Jane, we can do anything. McAllister started it but, by God, we'll finish it. _Lisbon felt the old surge of adrenaline and excitement. She was tackling important cases again and doing it with Jane. _Doesn't get much better than this._

They got home before midnight. Even though they were tired after the long day, after a shower there was still time enough for love.


End file.
